


Castrato

by beatrixlowe



Category: Original Work
Genre: 18th Century, Age Difference, Boys' Love, Castration, Classical Music, Crossdressing, Drama & Romance, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Gay Sex, Historical References, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Sad Ending, Teacher-Student Relationship, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-23 13:33:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 27
Words: 85,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7465296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beatrixlowe/pseuds/beatrixlowe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 18th century Italy, young boys are castrated to preserve their high-pitched voices. Raphael Armento is one such singer, and it is Gabriel Hathaway’s task to write an article about the Castrato’s promiscuous sex life. He quickly learns there is much more to the man than the rumors suggest, and he finds himself drawn to Raphael despite knowing he stood no chance, because the proud Castrato only sings and yearns for his teacher, Emilio. But when Raphael is told to play the lead female role in an opera, old wounds are reopened and the ambiguous relationship between the teacher and student turns bitter. Desperate to help, Gabriel resolves to either see Raphael through the obstacle, or take him and run away from the cruel world of music.<br/>(Only 3 chapters out of 27 have explicit content)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Gabriel Hathaway wore a frock over his coat with a cravat neatly tied around his neck, and he sat at the back of the open-air theatre, watching as the opera unfolded. It was a story of redemption, one in which a prince who neglected his duties learnt the folly of his mistakes and changes for the people he loved. The man who acted as the prince was a Castrato, a singer castrated in his youth to preserve his high pitched voice. The practice was only carried out by this country, and it was one that Gabriel was trying to stop.

However he was not taking any notes for the article he was about to write, no, he was spellbound by the performance. Though he could not see the Castrato’s expression from this distance, he realised he did not have to. He could hear every inflection in his wonderful singing voice, and he could imagine the rest; his frowns, scowls, and smiles. But there was one expression that Gabriel knew he would never see again, since the Castrato would never show it in a formal performance, and it happened to be his favourite.  
The toothy grin.

As time passed and the sky darkened, dozens of torches were lit around the theatre. The audience each held a candle, and Gabriel was no different. He sat holding the candle in both his cold hands, and he stared, through the glow of candlelight at the small silhouette of the man he loved. He knew that there was a seat in the front row left empty for him, but he was glad he did not take it. If he did, he would get too close to his memories, remember too many details of the days he spent in that mansion months ago, and it would be impossible for him to leave after.  
Even now, he yearned to be with this man, but he also knew that part of the reason why he came was to put an end to these feelings and move on. Thus he was glad about the distance between them, glad that he could continue loving the Castrato, even if only as a fan.

But just for a little bit, he decided as he lowered his head, just for the last time, he would allow himself to reminisce. He recalled the day he first saw the Castrato and heard him sing four months ago, and let a small smile spread his lips.

+++

From the moment Gabriel heard the singing of the renowned castrato Raphael Armento, he knew that he would fail. He sat in the grand cathedral with notebook opened and pen gripped tight but he could find no words to describe the singer’s voice. It resonated throughout the marble interior - a voice that belonged to neither man nor woman. Strong yet gentle, it reached unnaturally high tones without resorting to falsetto, and passages flowed with barely a breath drawn. It was so out of the world that Gabriel understood why he was called the angel of music.  
These sort of people were frowned upon in his own country, and Gabriel had been tasked to document as much as he could find out about the likely frivolous personal life of the famous castrato. Rumours about their incredible sexual prowess and ability to seduce both men and women made the castrati a popular target for scorn. Men at parties accused one another of sleeping with a she-male out of jest, and Gabriel wondered, as he stared at the tall singing gentleman, whether those gossipy men had even met a real castrato. If such a voice was heard and scorned, then surely warts grew in their ears. Either that, or they were simply jealous of his talent.

Heaven would know the amount of pain that man went through during his surgery in childhood, and the sheer hard work that must have been put in to reach his current glamour. It was easy to imagine the castrato spending hours and hours fine tuning that voice of his, sacrificing the rest of his life for music. How was he supposed to write disgraceful articles of such a great man? Gabriel swallowed the lump in his throat and forced himself to focus, unwilling to lose another second of the music to his pointless pondering.  
The last note started soft, swelled in crescendo and slowly faded away until there was nothing but silence. That silence stretched, for the sweet note remained sounding in everyone’s head and no one wanted it to end. A dumbfounded applause broke the trance they were in, and it quickly grew thunderous, combined with some raucous cheers from those who forgot they were in a church. Raphael accepted the applause graciously, dipping into a bow and letting a smile grace his features. The crowd squealed at that sight, and Gabriel thought them as shallow and disgusting as the people back home.

Only Raphael was beautiful.

+++

Gabriel took a long time before setting off from his temporary lodgings. The night before, he had witnessed the castrato’s ability and remained in a dizzy stupor, unable to find sleep until deep in the night. This morning he woke with the terrible realisation that he had only one month to complete the assignment, and that he would likely lose his job if he spent this time admiring the castrato and writing nothing. He told himself to put aside his emotions like he did for every other assignment, but a part of him remained fearful of finding any dark stain that would ruin his perfect impression of the angel of music. Thus his feet dragged as he left the house and sighs repeatedly left his lips, until he stood before his subject’s apartment.

The mini palace lay beyond metal gates, and a grand fountain stood in between, adorned with sculptures of five ladies playing harps. An elderly butler greeted him and asked if he had made any prior appointment. He pulled out the letter of introduction, written by his superior at work, and asked for a chance to have an interview. He expected to be sent away with an invitation card for a visit at a later date, so he was shocked when the butler returned to inform that his master had granted an immediate session.

Gabriel marched past the fountain with limbs wrongly coordinated. The way the water glittered under the morning sun made him even more self-conscious about his casual attire, and he was blinded when he reached the foot of the white marble staircase. His earlier hesitation had warped into a hesitation of a different kind; he could not believe he was really going to come up close and personal with the super idol. He doubted if he could even speak later, ashamed to activate his croaky voice in front of the one who had the most wonderful in the world.  
Gabriel followed the butler to a sitting room and there in the middle Raphael Armento stood, much taller than he thought. The castrato wore his casual garments, but his short brown hair was slicked back like in his performance. He had no hint of facial hair, and though the contour of his face was angular, some of his features remained soft, like a woman’s.

“Welcome,” Raphael said with his tenor voice, and Gabriel quickly responded.

“Th-Thank you for giving me a chance to speak with you,” he blurted, shook his head, and corrected, “I-I mean, my name is Gabriel and it is truly a pleasure to meet you. And, greetings, a good day to you.”

Laughter rang in the room, and Gabriel wanted to cover his face and melt into the parquet floor beneath his feet.

“You do not have to be so nervous.” Raphael gave his butler a nod, and the old man excused himself from the room. “Please, take a seat and be at ease, Mr Gabriel Hathaway.”

Hearing his full name uttered by Raphael himself sent a portion of Gabriel’s soul to heaven. He tried to keep his brain as he sat on the couch.

“So, what do you want to know about me?” Raphael asked as he sat down and crossed his legs. “How I was castrated? My music career? My personal life? I will tell you anything.”  
Gabriel detected a hint of sarcasm in Raphael’s tone, and it dropped a hammer on his enthusiasm. Much of his fluster died away as he carefully observed his subject’s mood. He might have been invited inside, but that did not necessarily mean Raphael was eager about the interview. The smile he wore was professional and should not be taken at face value. More probably, this famous person was already sick and tired of having to entertain the media. Nevertheless, Gabriel decided to be honest.

“Please tell me everything about yourself, as much as you are willing,” he answered.

“Do you not have any questions in particular?”

Gabriel shook his head. That was the truth, he was perfectly content with knowing just the castrato’s singing. He did not care about where Raphael was born, what he ate or who he had relationships with.

“Oh?” Raphael raised an eyebrow. Then a smile, one that was darker and more genuine broke through. “Then let me ask you. How old am I?”

“According to your profile, twenty two.”

“I am in fact eighteen, but I do not want people to know that. Now what will you write? That I am eighteen? Twenty two?”  
It was a test. Gabriel swallowed as he fiddled with the edge of his notebook, knowing fully well that he was being observed. The answer he gave at this point would determine his subject’s level of trust in him, and subsequently, the quality of information he could receive. But though so much was at stake, he decided to be honest.

“I will write that you claim to be eighteen but want people to think you are twenty two.”

Raphael blinked twice, then looked down and chuckled away. Gabriel did not understand what was so funny, but before he could ask, Raphael raised a hand.

“Pardon me, Mr Hathaway. It is just… I have met too many who answered ‘twenty two’ in fear of incurring my displeasure, but would later write otherwise. If you had said the same, I would have fed you with only lies like I did to them. But your answer,” he laughed again before regaining his composure. “Congratulations, you have exceeded my expectations. You are a breath of fresh air and I like you enough to tell you more than I told any other interviewer.”

Gabriel’s heart sank. It was as he had feared, Raphael was just another obnoxious celebrity who thought he could judge the whole world. If only he did not have to conduct this interview.

“Thank you for your generosity,” he said, opened his notebook, and readied himself to take notes.

+++

He made three visits in his first week, and each interview session lasted about two hours. Raphael shared about his childhood. He was born to rakes and shovels, and his parents sent him for castration hoping that he would become a famous singer and free them from their lives as farmers. Their wish was granted. Raphael had given them a villa in another part of the country and he visited them monthly.

When asked if the castration hurt, Raphael responded with a laugh and asked “what do you think?”

The castrato then shared about how differently his body developed. He was taller than he would have been because the lack of testosterone caused his bone joints to not harden as it should. Thanks to that, he said, his ribcage was larger and he had better breath capacity.

Raphael took a longer time to talk about his musical development, starting from how he hummed tunes out of enjoyment to his serious study of different composers and singing techniques. He talked at length about the various works he had sung, which ones he liked and which he disliked. Because he spoke quickly, Gabriel had difficulty noting the names of composers and songs that he did not know. But he did successfully capture Raphael’s daily training regimen with great detail, and it was even more rigorous than he thought. Breathing exercises, hours of singing, and on top of that, he had to learn music theory, composition and how to play the harpsichord. Even though he found Raphael haughty, he had to admit that he respected the man’s passion in music.

On his third visit, Raphael promised to talk about his personal life and secret relationships, but Gabriel found himself staring at just a grin and listening to silence. Minutes dragged and he patiently waited until Raphael finally spoke.

“Shall I show you?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Mr Hathaway, or if you do not mind me calling your name, Gabriel, what do you think about staying here in my mansion?”

“I do not understand your question.”

“Oh you are a gem.”

Gabriel narrowed as eyes as Raphael launched into another bout of irritating laughter. His laughter never meant anything good and was mostly done to ridicule.

“I can tell you about my relationships, but you prefer to have proof, do you not?”

“Are you suggesting that I stay and observe your daily life?”

“Is that not why you are here in this foreign country? It is a fantastic chance for you, and certainly not one that I give easily. You should be grateful.”

Raphael was not wrong, but anger sparked in Gabriel, and he retorted without thinking.

“I prefer my current living arrangements, thank you very much.”

“In that run-down apartment? Are you sure?”

Gabriel’s eyes widened.

“You did a check on me?”

“Of course I did. Had to make sure that my words are reaching the right ears, instead of a phony carrying a fake introduction letter.”

Gabriel worked to quell his anger. Raphael made sense and he could not argue. If possible, he did not want to see the prideful man every single day, but this offer was indeed good for his work, and he would get a lot more information than he could during the measly two-hour interview sessions.

“I understand,” Gabriel said, trying hard to sound grateful. “I shall accept your kind offer then, Mr Armento.”

“Great. Saves me from a lot of talking.” Raphael gave a playful wink, one that received no response, before ushering Gabriel out of the house. “Once you get everything packed, my butler Stefano will show you to your room. Now if you will excuse me, I have a lesson to attend.”

+++

Gabriel took his own sweet time to pack. He folded his clothes, unfolded them, and repeated the actions slowly until he was satisfied with the amount of time passed. Several times, he went and lay on his bed, stared at the ceiling and wondered what he had gotten himself into. He wished he never agreed to the assignment and he wished he was back home. Just one week and he was already missing the food his mother cooked, the jovial chats with his father and even the terrible whines of his spoilt sister.

Just three weeks, he told himself as he hulled his luggage from the apartment. Three weeks, and he would be done with this assignment and have no further contact with Raphael. He had decided, since the very first day they spoke to each other, that he very much preferred to only hear his singing voice from a distance.

However when he reached the gates, he became curious about something he thought he did not care about. Night had fallen by then and beside the fountain, Raphael stood close to another man who was slightly shorter than him. Even without hearing what was spoken, he could tell that they were close and he sincerely wondered who in the right mind would befriend such an unpleasant person. Then again, money could buy friends. Gabriel nodded to himself, convinced that that was the reason, until he saw something that almost made him drop his suitcase.

It was dark, but he was sure his eyes were not playing tricks on him.

Raphael held that unknown man’s face, leaned over, and kissed him. On the lips.

The kiss lasted several seconds and was definitely not done as just a greeting.

Gabriel hid behind a tree and watched as that man stepped through the gate and walked away. He planned to wait until Raphael returned to the mansion before showing up, but minutes passed and the tall man remained at the same spot staring at the closed gate. Without a choice, since it was getting cold, Gabriel made his way over and pretended that he had just arrived.

“I thought you were never coming.”

Raphael sounded mellower than during the day and in that instant, Gabriel felt pity for him. He did not know why, but that forlorn expression affected him and he momentarily forgot why he disliked him.

Gabriel was led to his room by Raphael himself, for it was late and he did not want to trouble the old butler.

“I will see you at breakfast tomorrow morning then. Good night, Gabriel.”

“Thank you. Good night, Mr Armento.”

“Just ‘Raphael’ will do.”

He turned, waved and walked down the corridor to his own room, only three doors away. Gabriel set his suitcase on the ground and worked to unpack his clothes, but his movements slowed every time he recalled what he had just seen. It was the first time he had seen a pair of homosexuals, and to his greatest surprise, he felt neither disgust nor disappointment, just plain curiosity. He wondered who that man was, and why Raphael seemed so attached to him. He wondered if that man was just after Raphael’s money. He wondered about many other things too, and it was not because he had to write an article about the famous castrato.


	2. Chapter 2

Gabriel’s eyes bulged when he arrived at the dining room and his steps came to a complete halt.

“Good morning, Gabriel,” Raphael chirped, wrapped an arm around the coquettish young lady beside him and pressed a kiss on her forehead. She shied away and lightly hit him on his arm, but Raphael tilted her chin and insisted on having a kiss on the cheek in return. It was only after he got what he wanted that he spared Gabriel another glance. “Why are you still standing there? Sit down.”

Had it been an illusion? Perhaps the man from last night did not truly exist. Gabriel forced a smile, nodded to greet the lady and took a seat as far away as he could. Stefano served tea, sneaked Gabriel a helpless smile and returned to a corner in the room. Breakfast was a fancy affair at Raphael’s home, but Gabriel was not in the mood to savour any of the fine food. Opposite him, the couple fed each other and flirted incessantly. Pointless conversations floated in the room, only between those two, and Gabriel was very relieved when the time came for him to excuse himself.

“I am ashamed that I have to leave you, for my singing lesson starts in a minute and my teacher is an impatient man.” Raphael spoke as he thumbed the lady’s cheek. “Will you forgive me? Will you visit me again?”

Without bothering to watch anymore, Gabriel got up from his seat and planned to return to his room for some peace. But he only managed to walk five steps before his arm was caught by Raphael.

“That is the wrong direction,” he simply stated before dragging Gabriel away.

“What? Wait, where are we going?”

“Were you not listening? I said I have a lesson. I will answer all your questions later, so be patient.”

“I did not say I have questions.”

Regardless, they reached the music room against Gabriel’s will, and he stepped inside timidly, feeling out of place as an intruder in a private lesson.

“You are late,” a deep voice stated.

“Sorry, Emilio,” Raphael said and stuck out a tongue.

That was not the proper way to apologise, Gabriel wanted to smack his forehead. He wondered if he should speak up for the man, to explain that he had been delayed by a lady who showed up out of nowhere, so that the teacher could stop being so scary. He took a step forward, thinking to at least introduce himself, and he was then met with the second surprise of the day.

It was not an illusion after all. The man from last night sat right in the room, legs crossed and holding a manuscript in his hands. Emilio had piercing light blue eyes which contrasted starkly with his black hair, and he did not look like a person from this country. His straight back and stern expression emitted an intimidating aura. Gabriel sucked in a breath when that man turned to regard him, and all desire to speak reduced to a meek nod of the head.

“We will warm up with arpeggios then, your least favourite.” Emilio said and motioned for Raphael to begin.

“Most dreaded, you mean.” The student sighed but did as he was told. His voice projected and flowed, joining the notes seamlessly from one scale to another. The entire exercises lasted a while, and though Gabriel enjoyed it, he was clearly the only one. Raphael sighed when it was finally done, and he muttered, “too easy and boring.”

“Foundations are important. And your B minor was not low enough, be careful.”

“Yes, yes. Let me try that once more.”

Musicians were a different species of human beings altogether, Gabriel was sure. Raphael’s singing sounded perfect to his ears and he caught not even one of the mistakes Emilio pointed out during the rest of the lesson. He was just busy being stunned by the sudden treat to the ears and feeling the same awe he felt at the cathedral a week ago. Raphael’s singing was so powerful and affective that Gabriel almost shed a tear at the end of one soulful piece.

Silence reigned when that last note died away, and Raphael waited for his teacher’s comments.

“Again, from seventy-four. Start even softer before building up. And do not sneak in that breath at the end of ninety-six.”

“I did not think it was obvious.”

“Too obvious. You must not breathe there even if you turned blue.”

Obvious? As obvious as the speck of dust in the carpet, it was. Nevertheless, Raphael complied with his teacher’s every demand and sang with all his might. Gabriel thought that the castrato performed his best during the concert, but now he was not so sure. There was a brilliance to his voice in this smaller room that was absent in the grand cathedral, and Raphael looked like he enjoyed the lesson more than the performance.

Two hours passed before he knew it and Gabriel sighed when Emilio got ready to leave. He was not the only one who was disappointed.

“Must you go?” Raphael asked, a hand extended but not touching the older man.

“Another student awaits. Besides, you need to take a break.”

“I am not tired! I can sing for another -”

Gabriel was tying the laces of his shoes when Raphael’s words were cut off, so he looked up in curiosity and received the third shock that morning. Emilio’s palm rested against Raphael’s cheek, thumb caressing his skin, and Raphael leaned into that touch with closed eyes. The moment was tender and intimate, more so than the outright flirting with the girl during breakfast. Gabriel’s heart beat quickened and he dropped his gaze in a panic. He had just witnessed something he was not supposed to. If he had not been in the room, would they have kissed?

“I will see you tomorrow, Raphael.”

With that, Emilio picked up his bag and left the room. Gabriel glanced at Raphael but detected nothing from his blank face. The singer merely put away the books without speaking. The quietness was uncharacteristic of the chatty Raphael, and Gabriel grew concerned.

“Raphael?”

The man turned and lifted an eyebrow.

“Are you all right?” Gabriel clarified. He received a nod in return.

Raphael then opened the door and strode right out. Still worried by the shift in attitude, Gabriel caught hold of his arm and stopped him.

“Why are you not speaking?”

A smile surfaced, and a soft chuckle sounded. Raphael then turned to Gabriel and gave his honest reply.

“I am just tired.”

 

+++

 

By the third day, Gabriel had stopped being surprised. Different women showed up at different points of the day, some were girls who just went through puberty while some were women old enough to be Raphael’s mother. Occasionally, gentlemen visited, bringing gifts, flowers and their shamelessness. The flirting between men was done differently, Gabriel noted, as they acted like friends and pretended to not know each other’s intention while sneaking touches and kisses.

What a scary world. Gabriel very much preferred the simplicity back home. He did not belong here and he believed he never would.

When asked to explain his relationships, Raphael said, “It is only fitting that a man of my calibre possessed a lover or two.” Gabriel’s eyebrows had twitched then, wanting to argue that what Raphael was doing was already illegal. Despite the fact that some of the women had husbands, Gabriel could hear the creaking of bed, loud panting and moans deep into the night.

Did his countrymen mention about a castrato’s sexual prowess? Gabriel penned in his notebook that the longest record so far was three hours. There were eighteen more days to go and Gabriel wondered how many hours of rest he would get.

Poking the steak absent-mindedly with his fork, Gabriel observed as Raphael ate, for once, without a man or woman by his side. He watched the way Raphael handled the knife and dug into the meat, and his eyes followed the piece until it was sent into his mouth. Gabriel let his sight rest on Raphael’s lips for a moment, suddenly realising that he had not seen Raphael kiss anyone else on the lips other than Emilio, even though he had many lovers.

Gabriel shook his head. He forgot to consider the bedtime hours Raphael spent with those women, maybe he kissed them on the lips as well.

“If you poked it any more, it would cease to be a steak and transform into minced meat.”

Raphael’s voice snapped him from his contemplations, and he looked down at the abused slab of meat.

“My apologies, I did not realise what I was doing.”

Raphael shrugged, took a sip of red wine and then looked at Gabriel with interest.

“Tell me, how is the progress of your article?”

“You mean my assignment?”

“Yes, yes, the one in which you confess your deepest affections for me.”

Gabriel fought back a blush and he hoped it would not show under the dim candle light. He refused to fall for the man’s cunning tricks like those gullible people who flocked to him. Against Raphael, the best reaction was no reaction.

“I am still in the stage of gathering information. For an assignment that spans a month, I usually only begin writing in the last week, so that I have enough time to sort out my thoughts and see the facts that I gathered in an objective manner.”

“Professional. I like that.”

“Thank you.”

“But that also means you have to hold back your incredible urge to write about my exciting life.”

“That is not a problem since the urge you mentioned does not even exist.”

Raphael laughed. Gabriel kept his head down and ate.

“So which lover of mine are you most interested to know about? I am in a good mood now and am willing to offer some spice to your article. How about Lady Gloria? You must have found her enchanting too.”

Gabriel tried hard to recall who Raphael was talking about and gave up after conjuring mental images of the all the women he met in these three short days. Not the women, Gabriel decided, he was more interested in the men who came after the castrato. But then again, they too did not seem to leave anything more than fleeting passion in Raphael. The famous singer loved many, but it was apparent to Gabriel that he in fact, loved none. Except perhaps one.

“Can you tell me more about Emilio?”

Raphael’s cocked his head to one side.

“He is my teacher, not my lover.”

“Is that a refusal to share?”

“Oh, no, no!” Raphael bolted upright and waved his hand. “I was just surprised. It is like asking a person ‘apple or orange?’ and getting ‘pear’ as a reply.”

“Does that mean you are willing to share?”

“Why not? He is my teacher, like I said, and I knew him since I was five. He is the first person to teach me about music. Oh yes, I will ask him to play a piece on the harpsichord tomorrow so that you can see just how talented he is. He knows how to play more than ten instruments and has performed in over-”

“H-Hold on.” Gabriel raised a hand, overwhelmed by the influx of data that he had not expected to receive. “May I retrieve my notebook and pen first?”

With Raphael’s permission, Gabriel dashed to his room, scolding himself for not being ready all the time. He hated that he had to stop Raphael because that was the first time he saw that man brighten up to this extent. He was relieved to find the blinding brightness still present when he returned.

But after ten minutes, Gabriel raised his hand to stop the rambling man again.

“My apologies but,” he hesitated, tore his gaze from his notebook and looked Raphael in his eyes, “if I wished to know about every bit of his accomplishments, I would have interviewed him directly. What I want to know are your thoughts and feelings towards him, and the nature of your relationship.”

“Thoughts and feelings?” Raphael hummed and looked up to the ceiling. “I respect and admire him.”

Gabriel scribbled the two words and waited for more, but for a while, there was nothing else. Raphael appeared spaced out, deep in his own thoughts. Would it be better to capture his attention or leave him alone? Not knowing what to do, the interviewer merely waited.

“He,” the singer finally spoke again, his voice softer than before. “He helped me through the toughest part of my life, held my hand as I went under the knife.”

Raphael took the cup of wine in his hand and swirled the red liquid. It made a soft swish, and then another as the action was repeated. Nothing else could be heard and Gabriel held back his urge to break the silence.

“Emilio made me who I am today. I would have been nothing without him.”

“You exaggerate,” Gabriel argued, more loudly than he intended. “Your voice is your own. I am an outsider so I may have no right to comment, but I have seen and heard about the hard work you have put in in your pursuit of music. I do not think your success should be attributed to your teacher alone.”

Being in such a ridiculous environment must have made him strange. Gabriel wanted to stab himself for speaking up so rashly. By declaring his own opinions, he had effectively shut off Raphael’s, and it was such a pity because that man was just beginning to open up to him. As he looked at the wry smile Raphael wore, he knew that he could get nothing more from the man tonight.

“You are kind, Gabriel.”

Dinner continued until Raphael finished his food, and they returned to their respective rooms. It was quiet that night, but Gabriel tossed and turned for a long time. At last, he gave up on sleeping and opened his notebook.

“Raphael,” he whispered as he wrote the name in neat calligraphy. Then he looked at the beautiful letters he had written and shook his head. He tried again, this time in a more cursive font, but it did not look right either. The lines on the book framed the name, but that was not how the man was like in reality.

Gabriel tried again and again, forcing himself to break every convention he was following with each try. He wanted to find out what could best represent the chaos that dwelled in Raphael. He wanted to sort out the chaos in his own mind too, to understand why he felt so worked up over a person he barely knew. For hours, he thought only about Raphael.

At last, when sunlight peeked through the curtains, he finished his final attempt with large rash strokes before putting down his pen.

“I…I must be crazy.”

Gabriel collapsed on the bed and closed his eyes. On the table, the notebook remained open, a quarter of it filled with his notes, and the other three quarters, with ‘Raphael’.


	3. Chapter 3

Having tea in a garden always sounded like a luxurious idea to Gabriel. White porcelain teapots, a colourful assortment of desserts, a servant standing at the ready, ladies chatting and taking in the fresh air…that was how it was supposed to be, Gabriel thought and shed tears on the inside.

Stefano the butler was present, the air was fresh and yes the table looked exactly as he pictured in his head, but his partner was not a lady. No, it was not even Raphael, whose presence he had grown to tolerate better. Gabriel stared at his cup, unwilling to look up and remind himself who he was having tea with. Unfortunately, his partner was not as keen to remain silent.

“I heard that you have questions for me. You may go ahead.”

It was a misunderstanding, but one that was too late for Gabriel to fix. As Raphael had promised, he asked Emilio to play the harpsicord during their lesson. It was unfair, Gabriel thought as he watched and listened to the performance. Brought up in an environment where effort was recognised, he had believed that anything could be accomplished with hard work. But the way Emilio’s fingers moved, the way he created such marvellous music, convinced Gabriel that he would never reach that standard even if he lived a hundred lifetimes.

Was it then too much of him to bombard Raphael with questions after the lesson? How could he remain silent after witnessing such expertise? He thought Raphael would respond as earnestly as he did the night before, but instead all he said was, “do not fret, your questions will be answered.”

He neglected to add ‘by the man himself’.

The teaspoon Gabriel held dropped to the ground as he scrambled for his notebook, only to realise that he needed a new one because of his wasteful vandalisms the night before.

“M-my apologies,” he muttered while challenging himself to look into those cold blue eyes, “D-do you have a sh-sh-sheet of paper?”

Unaffected by the flustered question, Emilio nodded and signalled to Stefano for his bag. It was fetched to him without delay, and Gabriel watched as Emilio’s long fingers reached inside. He was attracted by the elegant way they moved and it reminded him of how they ran across harpsicord keys and how they caressed Raphael’s cheek.

Gabriel felt his face heat up as the memory of that private moment grew more vivid, decorated with imaginary bubbles and flowers. He shook his head and forced himself to focus.

A blank music sheet was placed on the table. He thanked Emilio, took a deep breath and let the comforting touch of paper calm him down. This was an excellent opportunity to learn about Raphael from someone who was closely related, and Gabriel was not about to pass it up.

“Sir, could you please describe Raphael? What kind of student is he, and what are his strengths and weaknesses?”

“Raphael is an excellent student who loves music,” Emilio said without missing a beat. “He is self-motivated and always strives to do his best. His greatest strength is his honesty and ability to project his deepest emotions into his singing. Unfortunately that is also his weakness as he does not yet possess the maturity to mask his dislikes.”

Gabriel nodded, well aware that he was hearing the same words spoken to many other interviewers in the past. He had expected to get such a neutral response and he was not about to be satisfied with it.

“How about Raphael when he was a child? I heard that you met him when he was only five.”

“He told you that?”

The element of surprise in Emilio’s tone did not go undetected. It was an unplanned crack in the wall that man built around himself.

“Yes, he said so last night, but it was only a passing comment.”

“I see.”

As Emilio thought about how to respond, Gabriel secretly observed the man’s features. According to his profile, Emilio Castello was thirty-five, a good fifteen years older than Gabriel. But truth be told, he had thought that Emilio was older than that. His own silly father was forty-two, but possessed none of that grounded assuredness Emilio had. Even when met with the unexpected question, Emilio kept his calm and took time to think instead of saying the first things on his mind. He considered how his student’s reputation could be affected by his words.

“Raphael was an active child,” Emilio began, and Gabriel could not help noticing how gently the name rolled from his tongue. “He loved playing by the stream at the forest near where he lived, and he got into trouble often, just like any other boy in the village. I met him when I was travelling here, and was impressed by his singing. That was how I decided to take him as my student. Raphael’s parents were farmers and could not appreciate his singing. He worked very hard to gain their approval before they sent him…on his road to success.”

Emilio leaned back, took a sip of tea and remained quiet. Taking it as a hint that he had finished speaking, Gabriel wrote down what he had heard so far and spent a moment to digest it. He could tell Emilio left out many parts of the story but it did not feel right to push for more details. It was daunting to have a peek into the untouchable world that Raphael and Emilio shared. Tapping his pen on the table, Gabriel searched for the next question to ask, worried that Emilio would run out of patience if he paused for too long.

“Were you,” he began and hesitated, but the words were already at the back of his throat and he could not stop them. “Were you supportive of his castration?”

Cold sweat formed on his forehead as he kept his eyes pinned on the other man to detect any involuntary response. Emilio was a guarded man and he had been very careful with his words so far, and thus it was deeply impactful, and telling, when Emilio pressed his lips together.

“I was supportive. I believed that his talent would flourish and he did not disappoint.”

That was not the truth, Gabriel knew, but it would be cruel of him to probe any further than this. Change the topic, he told himself. He had to change the mood of their conversation with a more light-hearted topic, but his mind kept dwelling on the shadow that both Raphael and Emilio kept hidden so well. Frustrated with himself, Gabriel knocked his pen on his forehead, and felt embarrassed when he remembered he was in the presence of another. Out of fluster, he chose the next idea that crossed his mind - something that disturbed him ever since he stepped foot into the mansion.

“What do you think of Raphael’s frivolous relationships with the various men and women?”

What a disaster. Gabriel resisted the urge to slam his head on the table. This was not an appropriate question for their first interview. Now Emilio would think that he was just one of those people who were only interested in Raphael’s sexuality. Would the older man get angry at him for saying bad things about his student? Would he be asked to leave the mansion?

But instead of apologising, he remained stubborn and waited for a response, because he believed it was impossible for Emilio to feel nothing. He did not think the relationship between these two was just that of a teacher and his student. Bracing himself, Gabriel looked up.

What he saw made him gasp.

“No wonder,” the man said with a smile that hovered between appreciation and amusement. A rare display of emotion. “I can see why he likes you.”

Blood rushed to Gabriel’s head and he nearly choked on his own saliva. He picked up the teacup and took a hasty gulp, only to be scalded by the hot tea. Stefano came to the rescue with a glass of cold water which he drank it all in one gulp. He was not sure which made him more flustered, Emilio’s suave smile or the claim that Raphael liked him.

To make matters worse, the mentioned man noticed the butler’s flurry and came out to join them in their delightful afternoon tea.

“What happened to you?” Raphael said and laughed while landing heavy slaps on Gabriel’s back.

“N-Nothing!”

“Were you bullied?”

“I did nothing,” Emilio said, already back to his usual stoicism.

An additional chair was brought out by then, but Raphael did not take the seat. Instead, he walked over to Emilio’s side and refilled his teacup.

“Will you be there tomorrow?” Raphael asked, his tone tinted with hope.

“It depends. I have to teach lessons in the day.”

“They would love to see you. It has been a long time.”

“I know. I will try.”

Satisfied with the response, Raphael took a step back and gazed at Emilio as the man took a sip of the tea he had just poured.

On the other hand Gabriel settled with just observing. Though he did not understand their private conversation, he found their interaction more pleasing to watch than that between Raphael and the others. There was genuine sweetness in the way they spoke to each other beneath the mask of indifference, and Gabriel felt glad that Raphael at least had someone whom he sincerely cherished.

But it was more complicated than that. A strange feeling grew in Gabriel’s chest as he watched the joyous smiles on Raphael’s face every time Emilio spoke to him, and he found his own sights shift away from the pair and down to his paper. After an appropriate length of time had passed, Gabriel stood up and excused himself.

“I shall return to my room to organise my notes. Thank you, sir, for sharing your opinions and thank you Raphael for the tea. Please continue to enjoy without me.”

Gabriel bowed and left with quick broad steps. He was halfway up the stairs when he heard Raphael calling out to him.

“Wait, Gabriel!”

He stopped and turned around, surprised that Raphael came after him instead of spending more time with Emilio.

“Yes?”

“The carriage will arrive in a moment so please start packing. We will be spending two nights there.”

“Where are we going?” Gabriel asked.

“Have I not told you?” Raphael looked skyward in an attempt to remember, but he quickly gave up. “Perhaps not. Well, I am bringing you along to visit my parents, and since you are not supposed to refuse, I guess it does not make a difference whether I told you.”

Gabriel sighed and nodded helplessly. The decision was already made so there was no point trying to dispute the matter. Besides, he was getting used to Raphael’s high-handed way of making decisions.

“Yes sir, I will pack right away, sir.”

“Great!”

Gabriel heaved a sigh once he entered his room. The lack of sleep last night was starting to affect him, and after the mentally draining interview earlier, Gabriel felt like he could keel over and sleep for two days straight. But there was one thought that cheered him up. If they went to Raphael’s parents’ place, which was supposedly in a more rural part of the country, he would not have to witness Raphael’s irritating flirting sessions with those rich ladies.

He packed simply and brought only what he needed. As he was getting ready, he heard Emilio leave through the main gate. That meant Raphael would be his only company on this trip.

Why did Raphael want to bring him along?

Gabriel did not understand. In his mind, he imagined how the countryside would be and wondered what they would do during their stay, away from the bustle of the town. He pictured Raphael standing amidst nature and singing, accompanied by the chirping of birds and rustling of leaves. When he brought his suit case down to board the horse carriage with Raphael, he was wearing a smile.


	4. Chapter 4

Gabriel looked out of the window of the carriage and took in the refreshing sights. The roads had turned rocky since a while ago, making them jerk every time they met with a sharp bump, but that was a minor inconvenience. They were now miles away from town and surrounded by grass and trees. The silhouette of houses grew larger as they approached their destination and Gabriel admired the red sun’s slow descent into the horizon.

Though Raphael’s parents were no longer farmers, they were intimidated by the idea of living in the town and preferred to stay near where they used to work, that was what Raphael told him. In other words, this was where Raphael spent his childhood. It was not difficult to imagine a young Raphael running through this very field they were crossing. The corners of Gabriel’s lips upturned, his mood lifted by the thought that he had perhaps, gotten closer to understanding Raphael just by coming here.

The villa stood a small distance away from the smaller houses and though its size was impressive, the design was kept simple and unpretentious. Gabriel adjusted his cap when they were dropped off at the porch and he looked to Raphael for instructions.

“I am home,” the taller man called. There was a scurrying of footsteps and before long, a plump woman rushed out of the door and crushed Raphael in a tight hug.

“Oh Raphael, mama missed you.”

Gabriel stood at the side, secretly amused by their height difference. Raphael’s mother was not a short woman, but her head barely reached Raphael’s chest and she looked like a child in comparison to the ridiculously tall man.

Raphael’s father was also of average build, Gabriel learned when they stepped inside, and he wondered if Raphael would have been of that same height if he was not castrated.

“Raphael, come back more. Your mama’s always whining, ‘how cold, this house. How lonely.’“

Mrs Armento elbowed her husband, irritated by his mimicry, whereas the man laughed. But what was supposed to be a heart-warming reunion felt awkward to Gabriel. The couple sounded unnatural, like they were trying to speak properly without lapsing into dialect. He sneaked a glance at Raphael and confirmed his suspicion; the smile on Raphael’s face was the same as the one he wore when they first met.

“Dad, mom, allow me to introduce,” Raphael said while looping one arm around Gabriel’s shoulders. “This is my friend, Gabriel Hathaway.”

Friend?!

Gabriel shot an alarmed look at Raphael and blushed when he received a playful wink in return. Since when had his status been elevated from a mere interviewer to a friend? He squirmed when Raphael rubbed his shoulder and a strong urge to run away filled him. His heart was beating fast, and if they stayed like that any longer, he was afraid it might just burst.

“N-N-Nice to meet you!” He dipped into a low bow, then twisted nimbly out of Raphael’s grasp to shake hands with the parents. He heard Raphael chuckle and felt like a total fool.

Later that evening, Gabriel joined Raphael’s family in an awfully long dinner. The parents asked how their son was and Raphael told them about all the successful concerts he had performed in the past month. There was disjointedness in their conversation from time to time; Raphael never talked about anything beyond his work and though his parents were obviously curious, they did not pursue the matter either. If it were Gabriel’s parents, they would have forced him to speak while lecturing about how family members should not have anything to hide from one another.

Though they were close in age, it seemed their upbringing was totally different.

“You must be tired,” Raphael said with a small smirk as he escorted Gabriel to his room after dinner. “I caught you stifling more than a hundred yawns.”

“That is exaggeration,” Gabriel argued but could not hold back another yawn from escaping. “I am just tired from the travelling.”

Behind them, Raphael’s parents continued sitting at the dinner table, finishing the food that they neglected to eat when they chatted. Gabriel was not sure if he was overthinking it, but he thought they looked a little disappointed. Their eyes were downcast even though they were smiling.

“Raphael, do you not get along with your parents?”

The impulsive question stopped Raphael and made his shoulders tense up. Then he turned around and faced Gabriel with an unreadable expression.

“You are really perceptive.”

Gabriel frowned.

“Do you not love them?”

“Of course I love them. They are my parents.”

Raphael gave a weak smile, an uncertain side glance, and then nothing else. They continued walking in silence until they reached Gabriel’s room.

“Good night,” Gabriel said and closed his hand over the door knob. But before he could twist it, a larger hand closed over his own.

“Wait.”

Raphael gave Gabriel’s hand a light squeeze, then another. Too confused, Gabriel stared at their joined hands, afraid to react.

“I am planning to escape for a while tomorrow. Will you join me?”

Gabriel nodded without hesitation though he did not really understand what he was agreeing to. All his attention was focused on his hand, and the warmth that thawed his cold fingers. He shivered when he heard Raphael’s voice right by his ear.

“Thanks. Good night, Gabriel.”

The hand left his. Gabriel turned the knob, stepped into the room and without looking back, pushed it shut. Then he stared long and hard at his own palm. He was tired, so tired his mind could not think clearly. That must be why, he thought as he covered his mouth to mute his uneven breathing. That must be why he could not calm down.

 

+++

 

The next morning, they, as Raphael termed it, ‘escaped’ from his parents’ villa and went to the frolic about in the wonders of nature. Magnolia clouds, azure blue sky, and all other cliché descriptions of a pleasant summer day could be applied; the countryside looked fabulous in the tender dawn. The only thing that damaged the experience for Gabriel was how Raphael dragged him around like a rag doll.

“Slow down, long legs!” Gabriel complained while huffing away. “Where are we going? Why are we running?”

Raphael ignored his questions and laughed. The laughter mixed with the sound of wind brushing past his ears, and Gabriel found it as pleasing as the best song he heard from the singer. Then without warning, Raphael gave Gabriel’s arm a harsh tug and sent both of them tumbling down a gentle slope. Gabriel got up when the momentum ended, somewhat angered by Raphael’s antics, but much of that anger faded away when he saw the man run upslope to roll down once more, just like a child.

“This expanse!” Raphael exclaimed to the sky, his limbs spread open as he lay on the ground. “It makes me feel like I can do anything. I love this space!”

Gabriel shifted closer and lay down as well, panting to catch his breath. Then mindless laughter erupted from the two. Neither knew who started it, but they laughed heartily until they became breathless, and when it subsided, Raphael turned to face Gabriel.

“I am so glad you are here with me.”

“Please, you never gave me a choice.”

“I did! I asked you last night!”

Gabriel saw at the indignant look on Raphael’s face and burst into another bout of laughter. Who knew that the famous castrato could have this side to him? The plain cotton shirt he wore and hair messed up from the tumble made Raphael look younger than usual. He looked his actual age of eighteen, and was more cheerful, relaxed and free.

“We shall stay out from dawn to dusk,” Raphael announced.

“But what if we got hungry?”

“Have you heard of the existence of fruits?”

“I am just unfamiliar with this place!” Gabriel argued, punched Raphael’s shoulder lightly and tried hard to maintain his frown. But the chuckles melted his defence and he found himself grinning in defeat.

“I will be your guide for the day.” Raphael said and pointed in a direction. “We will go to the forest first, then a little further to a cave near the mountains, then back by following the stream. I will show you all my favourite hideouts.”

“Who did you have to hide from?”

“From Emilio, of course.”

The mention of that name erased some of Gabriel’s dizzy joy. He wished he did not ask that casual question. But then again, he must admit he was curious why Raphael needed to hide from Emilio in the past.

“Why did you have to hide? Mr Castello seems like such a cool-headed man.”

“He does, but he was not like that in the past.”

Raphael swung himself to sit upright and dived into an impromptu play act.

“Come back here, Raphael, or you will get no lunch!” He mimicked with the deepest voice he could manage, and his face distorted in exaggerated rage. “Did you think you could fool me? That was totally out of tune. Again!”

“He was that intense?” Gabriel asked with a laugh.

“Yes, he was absolutely scary. And what was worse was that all the villagers would help him to search for me when I hid. My friends were all traitors, all bought over by Emilio’s sweet words.”

Raphael smiled through the rest of his recollection, but as he talked, his eyes became more distant and they remained that way even after he had finished speaking. The smile wore off slowly, and the silence grew unsettling.

Clearing his throat, Gabriel dusted off, stood up and held out a hand to Raphael.

“I will never sell you out,” he said. “The forest first, right?”

Snapped out of his thoughts, Raphael responded with a big nod. Then the smile returned and it broadened into a grin that showed his teeth, one that was more heartfelt than any other smiles Gabriel had ever seen from the man. It was adorable.

 

+++

 

“I am bored,” Raphael grumbled, swinging his legs back and forth and splashing the water beneath.

“There is only so much we can do in the wild. Besides, we should take a rest. We have walked the entire day.” Gabriel folded a large leaf to form a receptacle, scooped water from the stream and handed it to Raphael. They then sat and stared blankly at the flowing stream.

“I am bored, Gabriel. Entertain me.”

“It should be the other way round, Mr Famous Castrato.”

“Give me a break. I sing every other day.”

So there would be no songs this day, Gabriel noted with disappointment. It would have been wonderful if Raphael sang here where there was no audience other than him. But even though it was a pity, he did not want to pressurise. He wanted Raphael to sing only when he felt like it, because it would be meaningless otherwise.

“What else can we do?” Gabriel wondered aloud. “We have caught insects, climbed trees and explored the cave. Do you know of any game that requires only two people?”

A mischievous glint shone in Raphael’s eyes.

“Why, of course I know,” he said, inching nearer. “The question is whether you will play with me.”

“I do not see why…Wait, this is a little too close.”

Gabriel leaned away from Raphael’s approaching grinning face and held up his arms to put some distance between them.

“Oh you are so cold,” Raphael said with a dramatic pout. “I left all my lovers to come here with you. Will you not ease some of my loneliness?”

“I-I am not talking about those sort of immoral games!” Gabriel pushed Raphael away and clutched his chest. The attack was too sudden and he had not seen it coming. Even his body was slow to react; his cheeks heated up and his heart thumped madly only after the ordeal. It irked him to see Raphael laughing away without realising the effects of his actions.

“You are a rarity to be protected at all costs. Not many could refuse my advances!”

“You think too highly of yourself.”

Shaking his head, Gabriel stood up and looked around, trying to find something interesting to do, something to take his mind off the dangerous fact that he was with Raphael alone in a place where people would not go. Ahead of him, further downstream, were patches of wild berry shrubs. They were not awfully interesting, but they did stand out from all the green.

“Come with me,” he said and pulled Raphael along.

When they reached, they worked together to find edible ripe berries. But what started as a collaborative attempt gradually turned into a competition to see who could collect the most berries. Laughing and claiming that he would not lose, Gabriel searched the branches at top speed and moved as quickly as he could. He went further and further, in the opposite direction from where Raphael headed, and he groaned when he realised there were fewer shrubs in this area. Shaking his head and accepting defeat, he stared at the open meadow before him and inhaled.

This was where the horse carriage passed when they came here. They would have to cross it again the next morning.

The drawn breath left his lips as a sigh. He was having so much fun he almost forgot it was only temporary. If only he could stay longer, speak more with Raphael and get to know the man better.

“Look how much I have gathered.”

Gabriel whirled around and nearly dropped all the berries he held. Instead of using the leaf receptacle they drank from earlier, Raphael had come up with a more effective way of storing the berries he found, which involved pulling up the hem of his shirt to form a bowl. Pale skin was exposed, all the way from the ends of the ribcage to the hipline where his pants hung dangerously low. Gabriel coughed and forced himself to look away. It was hard to believe how innocent Raphael was despite his womanizing tendencies.

“Hah! I found more berries than you,” the oblivious man said.

“Yes, you win. Happy?”

“Very happy. I have not had so much fun in a long time. Thank you, Gab –”

The rest of his name reduced to a distracted mumble. Gabriel raised an eyebrow in question, but the tall man had his head turned to the side and his eyes pinned on something else far away. Then the hands that held the shirt up released their hold and all the berries Raphael collected scattered to the ground. And before Gabriel could ask what was wrong, Raphael broke into a run, away from the shrubs and into the clearing.

There, in a distance, a horse carriage made its way to the villa. It noticed the man’s approach and slowed to a stop, and out stepped the only person who could evoke such a strong reaction from Raphael – Emilio.

They talked. Gabriel could not hear their conversation from where he stood, but it did not matter. It was just like how the presence of the sun ceased to matter. Gabriel lowered his hands and let the berries he gathered fall. He had thought their little adventure would last till dusk, but it was already over.

 

+++

 

Despite refusing to sing just a few hours ago, Raphael sang beautifully that night after dinner, with Emilio as his accompaniment. Villagers were invited over and though they seldom listened to music, they were impressed by Raphael’s singing and kept conveying their envy to the singer’s proud parents. Gabriel leaned against the wall and listened to Raphael’s performance. The castrato was unaffected by the loud chatters around him, and he projected his jubilant voice in perfect harmony with Emilio’s playing. The audience clapped after each song, but Gabriel knew Raphael sang not for any of them. He sang only for Emilio.

“They are like this all the time. Emilio plays and Raphael sings and sings, in our small farm house. We did not understand in the past, thought he was so noisy.” Raphael’s father commented as he passed Gabriel a glass of sparkling white wine. “Thanks to Emilio, our son is famous and we have this big house.”

A part of Gabriel wanted to argue that it was Raphael’s own hard work that led to his fame, but he kept quiet. He did not feel like talking.

“I hope Raphael is well in town?” The father asked softly. “He will not tell us. But we are so happy he brought a friend. Thank you for being with him.”

Gabriel gritted his teeth, overcome by a spark of frustration.

“My apologies but I am not really his friend. I am just an interviewer writing a story about a castrato.”

He did not have to look to know the older man’s disappointment. But there was nothing he could do, it was not like he had the rights to tell them about Raphael’s messy relationships or speak about his daily life. They had lived under the same roof for only five days. Five insignificant days.

“I am so sorry,” Raphael’s father said with a forced smile. “He made you come here? My boy can be so wilful.”

For once, Gabriel did not stay until the end of Raphael’s performance. He excused himself and went to his room early. He thought to pack his bag, but could not focus with the muffled music in the background. At last, he threw himself on bed, shut his eyes and covered both his ears. Still, images of Raphael’s toothy grins entered his mind and he could not shut them out. He could not deny the bitterness he felt.

He woke up in the middle of the night with a parched throat and it was only then that he realised he had fallen asleep. His hazy consciousness registered that it was half past one and that he was still at Raphael’s parents’ place. The servants would be asleep by now and Gabriel would have to go to the kitchen himself to get water, but the problem was that he was unfamiliar with the layout of the large villa.

Slowly, he left his room and descended the steps, guided only by thin rays of moonlight. He turned to the dining area, figuring to start his search there, but as he walked, his eyes were drawn to the bright main hall. It took a while for him to realise that the main door was wide open. Alarms went off in his head and he worried that a burglar had entered the house. He approached the hall cautiously.

“Please stay the night, Emilio.”

Gabriel froze, looked for the source of the voice and hid behind a pillar. Two men stood by the open door, and a suitcase lay on the ground.

“I cannot. I have an important meeting with William tomorrow morning.”

“No, please go only at sunrise. It is not safe to travel at night.”

“I have escorts. You do not have to worry.”

It was too late for Gabriel to turn and leave. He did not want to be found out and he was afraid to make any sound, so his only choice was to remain where he was and stay hidden. He saw Emilio reaching up, brushing aside Raphael’s hair and touching his cheek. It was a habit, Gabriel realised. That man had probably done the same thing since Raphael was a child.

He saw Raphael respond to the touch, tilting his head to lean into it. Then Raphael placed his own palm over the hand in an attempt to prolong the moment. It was torturous to watch.

“I missed being here with you, away from everything else. Will you please stay, just like old times?”

Emilio did not say anything and did not retract the hand that Raphael snuggled against. The silence grew along with Raphael’s desperation, and his timid displays of affection became bolder. He held Emilio’s hand, pressed a kiss to the knuckles, and when that gained him no response he led the hand lower, brushing Emilio’s fingers against his throat, past his collarbone, towards the centre of his chest.

“Emilio,” Raphael whispered and took a step closer. “Spend the night with me.”

“…You are unreasonable,” Emilio said and pushed Raphael away. He then picked up his suitcase and took a large step towards the open door. Startled by the sudden movement, Raphael reached out and grabbed Emilio’s arm.

“Sorry! I did not mean to -” Raphael begged, his head lowered. “M-May I kiss you before you go? May I? Please…?”

Gabriel felt his heart stop and his throat turned even drier. He wished he had stayed in his room and slept through the night. He wished he did not have to see this.

Raphael bent over to look at Emilio, then with hands resting gently on the older man’s shoulders, he inched forward until their lips met. Gabriel saw, in too much detail, how Raphael’s lips nudged against Emilio’s and how they parted to take a breath before continuing. The kiss lasted longer than the previous one Gabriel witnessed, and Raphael sighed when he reluctantly moved away.

“Please stay safe on your way back.”

“I will see you tomorrow. Good night, Raphael.”

“Good night, Emilio.”

Gabriel stayed hidden even after the door was closed and Raphael walked away. He remained standing there while silence reigned, unable to move. His chest ached but his head was oddly clear and he could process his own thoughts with calm. He was angry at Emilio for being cold, that was his first reaction. Then he was angry at Raphael for being so submissive. But when those sentiments blended together, Gabriel realised he was most upset with himself as it was only in utter defeat that he learnt what he was competing for.

He had made the silliest mistake of falling in love with the subject of his research, and he had a zero chance of winning against his rival.


	5. Chapter 5

If there was any salvation to be had for falling in love with Raphael, it was that Gabriel realised it early. He had not gone too deep yet, and he was sure he could pull out of it as quickly as he did for some of his teenage crushes. Perhaps it was a mistake on his part, what he felt might actually just be admiration, and he had merely been carried away by the misleading friendly atmosphere between them.

Another saving grace was that he would be gone in fifteen days. Although he no longer detested being around Raphael, having the time limit made it easier for him to draw a clean line in their relationship. He was here to do his job, nothing more.

With these thoughts in mind, Gabriel was able to take the carriage back to the mansion with Raphael as his usual self.

“Will you be busy for the next two weeks?” Gabriel asked as familiar sights of the town entered their view. The countryside was nice, but he honestly felt more at ease surrounded by buildings.

“I am not sure,” Raphael said while gazing outwards. “Emilio arranges for almost all my performances. He is having a meeting with a highly acclaimed composer right now, and I suspect he is trying to make me sing in an opera.”

The mention of Emilio still hurt Gabriel. It was a little too soon and he had not recovered enough to be immune.

“I guess we will know during your lesson later,” he said with a smile, and he still felt his heart aflutter when he earned one in return.

“You are right. Receive the news with me later, Gabriel. I like having you around.”

If it were yesterday, Gabriel would have blushed at those words. But now he knew, all those compliments and expressions of appreciation were just empty words. It was time to get used to it already.

“It is my pleasure,” he replied and Raphael laughed.

 

+++

 

Buying a new notebook strengthened Gabriel’s resolve to get over his feelings for Raphael. It felt like forever since he last sat down and wrote, and he decided to do just that for the two hours he had before Emilio arrived. Writing always helped to clear his mind. If he penned down his thoughts on Raphael, it would surely help him to view their relationship in a more objective manner.

He tried to forget how he spent a certain night writing only Raphael’s name.

His hand deftly turned the key to unlock the gate and he gave Stefano a nod when the butler held the door open for him.

“Welcome back, Mr Hathaway. I hope that your trip to the countryside was pleasant.”

Gabriel had not thought much about it before, but that was the first time Stefano actually spoke to him. The senior butler always did his work quietly. It was skilful how he blended into the walls and only became visible when he was needed.

“Yes, Stefano. It was pleasant.”

“Young master is practising the harpsichord and wishes to be undisturbed,” Stefano informed. “In the meantime, he has instructed me to explain to you the identities of the people who visit him regularly. He apologises for neglecting to do it, and he wishes to convey his hope that my assistance would help in your writing.”

“Thank you. That would be most helpful.” Gabriel replied by reflex and accepted the offer, trying not to let his surprise show. Had Raphael neglected to introduce anyone? Did he not say that they were all his lovers?

They started with Lady Gloria, the tall elegant woman who visited on Gabriel’s second day in the mansion. She was the youngest wife of the duke who owned the largest theatre in town. Then there was Lady Lilia, the young girl from the first day. She was the daughter of a very rich business man who happened to love music and Raphael’s singing. The gentlemen who visited were also of importance in Raphael’s social circle, all either patrons of his performances or sons of established musicians.

It should have been obvious right from the start. None of them was actually the castrato’s lover, and if Raphael did not intentionally lie, then his definition of ‘lover’ was most questionable. All this time, he had been using his physical charms and treating them as stepping stones to climb higher in the social ladder.

“Sir, if I may.”

Gabriel looked at Stefano, unable to hide his disappointment. He must have looked pathetic then, because even the composed butler seemed to pity him. He nodded and gave consent for Stefano to continue speaking.

“Please do not think poorly of young master. He was thrust into this life not by his own will, and he thrives only because of the sacrifices he made. He had no choice but to mingle with those people. He never meant harm.”

He let Stefano’s words linger in the silence. It sounded logical, but it did not change the fact that it went against Gabriel’s values. This conversation only confirmed what he should have accepted, that he would never truly understand Raphael.

“My apologies. I have spoken out of my line of duty.”

“No, Stefano. Thank you for sharing your thoughts.”

Gabriel managed a weak smile and returned to his room. He opened his blank notebook, took out his pen and ink pot, and thought about what to write. The first page was quickly filled up with the names of those people Stefano mentioned and how they were related to Raphael. The adjacent page contained extra descriptions of how they looked and behaved. His pen scratched the pages at a steady pace and he spilled not a drop of ink as he carefully wrote. But when he reached the bottom of the page, he paused. He had included his own name under the list of Raphael’s associates and had labelled himself, ‘writer from another country’.

As Gabriel stared at what he had written, a nameless chill spread from his core and clenched his insides. His hand, the one that experienced Raphael’s warmth, shook and could not sustain proper hold of the pen. Writing cleared his thoughts but it also brought out those that he kept at the deepest recess of his mind in favour of lovelier delusions.

It made perfect sense to have good relations with a writer. Who would not, if they wanted nice articles to be written about themselves?

Gabriel did not feel angry enough to shout or upset enough to cry. All these were what he should have known, and it would be silly to create a big fuss over them this late in his research. He just sat and stared at his own words, to remind himself just who he was, until it was time for Raphael’s lesson.

 

+++

 

The student stood at the ready before his teacher with his usual enthusiasm. His hair was combed back and his attire was neat and proper. The teacher sat on the chair, calm and collected as always, flipping through a thick manuscript titled ‘Ariodant’. But there was something off. Of all the lessons he had witnessed so far, Emilio started each session by getting Raphael to warm up his voice. Yet minutes passed with the teacher just reading the libretto without even looking up once.

Raphael fidgeted and Gabriel noted numbly that the castrato could not deal well with suspense.

“What is the story about, Emilio? Which role will I be taking?” The excited student asked at last, kneeling down to have a peek at what his teacher was reading.

“…A romantic story about Princess Ina and her knight, Ariodant.”

“Romance sells,” Raphael commented, and when Emilio said nothing, he continued. “Is Ariodant in love with Ina? Does he want to elope with her?”

“Ina has another suitor, Othon, who is rejected and thus jealous of Ariodant. Othon lies that he visited Ina’s bedroom often. Ina is then persecuted for not keeping her chastity.”

“I assume then that Ariodant fights the persecution to protect Ina? That is usually the crowd favourite, everyone enjoys watching how true love triumphs over evil.”

Emilio nodded, Raphael waited and Gabriel wondered when their lesson would truly begin. He did not care much about the plot of the opera and just wanted to hear Raphael sing. Despite having many emotional ups and downs in recent days, one thing remained the same and that was how much Gabriel liked Raphael’s voice. He wished Emilio would hurry up and tell Raphael which role he would be taking. He did not see the point in keeping the suspense for so long.

“I am quite nervous actually, to act in front of an audience and not just sing,” Raphael admitted. “But I think I will be able to pull off Ariodant’s role well enough.”

“…That is not the role you are assigned.”

“Oh,” Raphael smiled awkwardly and backed away. “Who will I be then? I cannot be the villain. Villains usually have deeper voices.”

The chair rattled as Emilio stood up all of a sudden. He thrust the libretto into Raphael’s arms, and his own hands then fell to the side and formed fists. Something was not right, and Gabriel knew that Raphael sensed the same. The tall student stood holding the manuscript with wide confused eyes, afraid to prompt his teacher.

“You will not be Ariodant.” Emilio said with uncharacteristic agitation. “The cast had already been decided by the time I arrived at the meeting, and the only role left was…Ina.”

It was Raphael’s turn to fall silent. He stared at Emilio as if expecting him to explain further, to say that he had argued against the decision.

“The premiere of the show will take place during the summer festival. Esteemed guests from other countries will also be attending it. Be sure to sing well.”

“There has to be some sort of mistake,” Raphael whispered, working hard to smile. “I cannot… I know, I just have to be the voice for the actress right? I can do that. I can stay behind the scenes and –”

“I know you are unwilling, but the decision has been made.” Emilio cut him off, took a deep breath and unclenched his fist. “I have already given my consent.”

“Please do not say that,” Raphael begged, his anxiety rising with every spoken word. “Please tell me you rejected the offer. I do not need to do this, Emilio. I am already famous.” He pushed aside the manuscript and reached for his teacher’s arm. “I have performed in many concerts this year. I am already doing my best, right?”

“Raphael, calm down.” Emilio said as he brushed Raphael’s trembling hands aside. “It is just for this one show. A singer cannot always choose his roles, no matter how famous. Learn to accept.”

“You cannot make me go on stage as a woman. Please, Emilio, please reject the offer. I promise to sing in as many concerts as you want later. Please.”

“Taking up a female role will expand your repertoire. Treat this as a learning experience.”

A loud bang sounded as Raphael slammed his fist on the table. Dark fury crossed his face; his eyebrows knitted and his jaw tightened. From the side, Gabriel held his breath, taken aback by this turn of events. He never thought Raphael would get angry at Emilio, never thought the cheerful Raphael could look so furious and so cold.

“You promised me, Emilio. You said you would never do this to me.”

“Raph –”

“I am a man!” he bellowed. “I may be castrated, but I am a man! And I will never wear a dress ever again, especially not in front of you!”

The last word resounded in the mansion with a note of finality that severed something between the teacher and student. Emilio was expressionless and he looked on, unmoved, as Raphael panted from his outburst. At last, he reached for his bag and turned to the door.

“Use this day to calm down. I will see you tomorrow.”

“No you will not.” Raphael hissed vehemently. “I will not practise for this. You cannot make me.”

Emilio paused and hesitated for a few seconds, but ultimately left without saying anything else.

Gabriel watched as Raphael collapsed on a chair and buried his face into his hands, and at that moment he knew that all his efforts were in vain. He tried to tell himself that they were not friends, even tried to paint in his mind an ugly picture of the manipulative castrato so it would be easier to feel dislike towards him. But it was useless.

Gabriel stared at Raphael’s defeated form, wanting nothing but to wrap his arms around the wounded man.

“Raphael.”

“Leave.”

Gabriel winced, slapped by the harsh rejection. He tried again.

“I can bring you a glass of water.”

“Leave this room, now, or I will throw you out of my house and send you back to your country.”

There was not a shred of emotion in his threat but it sliced deep into Gabriel nonetheless. He nodded grimly and did as he was told, leaving Raphael behind alone in the music room. It was none of his business, after all. Even though his heart ached to see Raphael like this, he was an outsider and could not do anything to interfere. His purpose was just to be the silent audience, to witness the scenes unfold and then write about them later.

But he would not be able to live with himself if he did that.

Gabriel stopped walking and clenched his fist. And when he looked up, there was a glimmer of determination in his eyes. He did not care who he was or how little he knew Raphael. He cared only about Raphael’s smiles and he was willing to fight to preserve them.

He would start by talking to Emilio.


	6. Chapter 6

He would start by talking to Emilio, but what should he say?

Gabriel spent an entire day drafting the questions he wanted to ask and the requests he wanted to make. He wrote them all down in his new notebook, because he doubted that he could have more than one chance to meet Emilio. If he was found to be a nuisance before he could convince Emilio, he would be tossed out and left with no other ways to help Raphael.

His primary objective was to convince Emilio to find a replacement for Raphael so that he would not have to act as a woman.

Truth be told, he had no idea why Raphael reacted so strongly against the idea of crossdressing. Gabriel was forced to dress as a girl once, when he was really young, and he merely treated the whole episode as a huge joke. But the fact was that it was a great issue for Raphael, big enough for him to risk spoiling his relationship with his beloved Emilio. The singer had kept to his words and barred Emilio from entering the mansion. He had also moped in his own room the entire day and spoke to no one other than Stefano.

A cold war; Gabriel was sure that was what this conflict would turn into. He had seen his mother and sister engaged in one before, both refusing to speak to each other until one of their desired outcomes happened. It was most troublesome, and his father always reflected that he was glad to bicker with Gabriel. Because men could resolve problems with either words or fists, and were not petty enough to resort to a draggy cold war.

Obviously he was wrong. Stereotypes could not be applied everywhere, Gabriel learned.

Clutching the straps of his sling bag, Gabriel went down the stairs, informed Stefano where he was going, and rushed out of the mansion. It was an early Sunday morning, the air smelt right and Gabriel was sure the stars were aligned, even though he could not see them in the bright sky. He told himself again and again that it would work and Emilio would listen to him, so that he could pull this stunt off before hesitation stopped him. He did not want to lose to his own cowardice.

But eighty percent of his bravado melted away as he stood facing the gates to Emilio’s house. Although the apartment was more humble than Raphael’s, it was austere and gave the vibe that no nonsense would be tolerated. Gabriel’s teeth chattered from the nervousness. The idea of speaking to the man unnerved him and he did not dare to think how the conversation would go in that man’s territory. He would not even have the silent support from Stefano. It was downright scary.

Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut and called, “Mr Castello, may I have a word with you?”

A few hours ago, he inquired about Emilio’s schedule and learnt that the man would be at home at this time of the day. True enough, a servant walked promptly to the gate and ushered him inside. That was a huge load off his mind, Gabriel sighed in relief. He had been afraid that Emilio would turn him away without listening to what he had to say.

This was it, he told himself. His shoes clicked against the marble floor with each step, but though the hall was large and empty, there were no echoes. It was like the walls swallowed every sound. His grip on the bag straps tightened as he was led into a corridor and his earlier sense of insecurity was forgotten. Even if it was intimidating, he had to seize this chance to do something for Raphael.

He straightened his back when the door opened.

“I did not think you would come,” Emilio said without looking up. He sat behind a desk full of books and paper, and the pen he held continued moving even after the guest had stepped inside. It reminded Gabriel why he could not stand this man.

“I came here to talk about Raphael.” Gabriel said, more boldly than he thought he would. “He stayed in his room for the whole of yesterday, and he remains strongly repulsed by your suggestion of the opera role for him.”

“It was not a suggestion. It was an instruction.” Emilio corrected, dipped his pen into the ink pot and continued his work. “He has to accept what he has no power to change.”

“Excuse me, but it is apparent that he cannot and will not accept it.”

The words left his mouth before he could help it, just like how his hand moved on its own to slam on the table. The notes he had prepared lay in the bag, forgotten, but Gabriel was certain of what he was doing. His action, words and thoughts were aligned, unlike the ice man who sat opposite him.

“Tell me why he has no choice but to take up this role,” he said. “If there is no good reason, then I ask that you please find someone else for it. You  _know_  he is willing to do every other thing for you, so why are you making this so hard for him?”

“And how is this of any importance to you?”

Emilio’s words jabbed straight at the weak point of the pillar supporting Gabriel’s resolve. Indeed, this had nothing to do with him. He was just a writer and should know his place - that must be what Emilio wanted to say. Still, his blood boiled, and he knew that he would hate himself forever if he backed down here.

“This is important because I am his friend.”

“Hmm. Friend.”

The legs of the chair dragged against the floor as Emilio stood up. Gabriel instinctively took a step back, and though it irked him to be mocked, he could not find it in him to retort. He clutched his bag when Emilio stood before him.

“My question is sincere, so tell me the truth,” Emilio said, and Gabriel could not tell if the older man was angry. “Why is this important? Why is Raphael important to you?”

Blue eyes searched him intently for answers, and Gabriel fought back all urge to fidget. He had come to ask questions but ended up being interrogated. This was not how it was supposed to be, but if he did not answer, it would be the end of his involvement. Emilio would not explain unless he admitted his true reason.

His eyelids fell shut and he recalled the past few days spent with Raphael. He focused on the grins he liked and the various expressions the man wore. Then he opened his eyes and confronted Emilio.

“I am attracted to him. You may laugh at me but I am serious. I want to know more about him and become someone he can rely on.”

Emilio leaned against the table, eyes cast downwards. For a while Gabriel wondered if the man was even listening to him because there was no response. There was only a long sombre pause and there was no way to tell what thoughts crossed his mind, or what memories he was recalling. At last, after what seemed like an eternity, he explained.

“William Macmillan, the composer for Ariodant, is interested in Raphael and has offered to bring him along in a tour to other countries if he performs well for the opera. He is highly influential in the music scene and will make sure that Raphael shines greater than ever before. But he is also very stubborn and unforgiving. If I refused the role, it would spell the end of Raphael’s music career.”

“But you do not know for sure,” Gabriel said, his head spinning as he brainstormed for a way out. Emilio’s reason was heavier than he predicted and it was not easy to argue. “If he is interested in Raphael… If he just wants Raphael in the opera, he could have let him play the lead male, Ariodant, right?”

His suggestion was met with a derisive shake of the head.

“You still do not understand. Let me put it in simpler words for you.”

The older man took a step forward, making the distance between them the shortest yet. Gabriel swallowed and braced himself, but what came were not angry words, only that of despair.

“William wants to see Raphael in a dress,” Emilio said in monotone. “He plans to eventually force his way into Raphael’s bedroom. Do you understand now what mess Raphael is caught in?”

“And you would let him?” Gabriel whispered. He breathed harder to suppress the rising rage, but it was no use. A growl escaped as he grabbed hold of the front of Emilio’s shirt. “You would let him go on a tour with that pervert?!”

Emilio neither resisted nor denied and that indifference threatened to cut the last thread of his self-restraint. He wanted to punch the man, to shout at him some more for being so unfeeling, because if he were Emilio, he would never have hurt Raphael so. But what use was there? What could he change by losing his temper?

“Could you not have done anything to help him?” Gabriel asked through gritted teeth. “He adores you. He sings only for you. At this rate even if he becomes the most successful musician in the world, he will not be happy.”

“The career lifespan of a singer is short.” Emilio said, his voice as calm as during lessons. “Raphael will be past his prime in another ten years. Intensive singing will eventually damage his vocal chords. It is imperative that he achieves success and gain as much fame as he can before that happens. If not, he would have been castrated for nothing.”

Gabriel winced, his arms dropped uselessly to his sides, and he felt more helpless than ever before. It was impossible. How could he choose between Raphael’s happiness and his purpose in life? Was this the cruel choice Emilio had to make?

“You said you want to be someone he can rely on,” the man said. “I ask that you please do so. Find a solution for him if you can, or take him and run away.”

“Why? Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you are honest and will not betray him.”

Emilio glanced away immediately and Gabriel thought he heard an added ‘unlike me’.

The prolonged silence thereafter marked the end of their discussion. Gabriel took a good look at the man before him and realised that he no longer found him intimidating. Emilio was just someone too bound by duty to properly cherish what was important. And he was also a coward, like Gabriel.

“What are you going to do now?” he asked Emilio.

“Raphael does not want to see me, so I will stay out of his sights. He does not want me to see him in a dress, so I will not be present on the day of his performance. After that, he will go on his tour. In other words,” Emilio paused to swallow. “I will not see Raphael again.”

“But you are his teacher,” Gabriel protested, but there was little strength in it. “How will he perform without your guidance?”

“He will be fine,” the teacher said while wearing a bitter smile. “He is my ultimate creation.”

“Raphael is not an object.”

Dropping that sentence, Gabriel picked up his bag. His path ahead looked bleak, but there must be some other ways to help Raphael that would not result in the end of Raphael’s career. He had to stay positive and look for it. He refused to be like Emilio.

As he was about to exit the room, he heard a question from behind.

“Do you want to know why he is so repulsed by the idea of wearing a dress?”

Gabriel glanced down at his feet and then back at the door.

“I will ask him,” he said and without looking back, left Emilio’s house.


	7. Chapter 7

There was only one way to deal with a stubborn person, and that was to be even more stubborn. Gabriel squared his shoulders and steeled himself.

“Raphael! Come out of your room!” he called and landed three sharp raps on the closed door. Then he waited, and as expected, there was no reply.

But this was nothing compared to what he had gone through in the morning. If he had the courage to face Emilio, he could stand any rejection that Raphael might throw at him.

“You spoilt rich boy. Come out now and practise your singing! Are you not a professional?”

He banged on the door several more times. He was aware that Stefano stood behind and was gently trying to stop him, but he did not care. Raphael had been cooped up in his room for more than a day; it was too much, and it irritated Gabriel. How could a grown man act like such a… such a milksop?!

Too bad for the door, he thought as he continued hammering away and vented his frustration. Each impact sent loud reverberations down the corridor, but Gabriel was determined to win this battle of attrition. He was sure Raphael, with his keen sense of hearing, would get fed up with the noise before his knuckles bled.

“Go away!” came the muffled yell.

Satisfied, Gabriel stopped knocking and shook his wrist.

“Oh you are still alive,” he said, feigning surprise. “That is great news, considering how I am supposed to write about your life and not your death.”

“Leave me alone! Or I will throw you out of my house!”

“That same threat? You do realise that you have to step out of your room before you can throw me out, right?”

Raphael did not reply. Instead, there were a few soft thuds, presumably caused by the repeated collision between Raphael’s fist and the bed. Gabriel could not stop his smile from spreading.

“Come on, I thought you wanted to throw me out? I am still here.” he taunted and prepared to continue knocking, but it abruptly swung open and his fist was left hanging in the air.

Gabriel gazed at the man before him. His hair was dishevelled, he had eye bags, and he looked absolutely terrible. Still, it was Raphael, and Gabriel could not think of a better sight than this.

Grinning with all genuine joy, he greeted, “A good day to you, Raphael.”

“Good day my -!”

“I missed you.”

Struck by surprise, Raphael lowered his head. He did not seem to realise that Gabriel, who was shorter than him, had no trouble peering up and seeing the blush on his face.

“Idiot. It was just one day.”

The reprimand died along with the last attempt to stay angry. Gabriel beamed. It was great that he persevered. The throbbing pain in his knuckles was worth it. Just as that thought came to pass, warmth enclosed his wrist and it was lifted to eye level.

“How dare you damage my door,” Raphael complained, all the while looking at Gabriel’s bruised knuckles. “You will not able to pay for it even with your life’s savings.”

A thumb ran over the redness, but though it hurt, Gabriel did not wince. He was too distracted by the touch to pay heed to the pain. All that filled his mind was the numbing realisation that Raphael worried about him.

“I apologise,” Gabriel mumbled. “I just… I just wanted to see you…”

Their eyes remained pinned on their joined hands and their faces grew redder, until steam shot from the top of their skulls and urged them to jump apart.

“I am hungry, Stefano,” Raphael said, louder than he needed to, for the old man was standing right at the side and wearing a broad smile.

“Lunch will be served immediately,” Stefano said, and on second thought, purposefully clarified. “For how many, sir?”

The blush on Raphael’s face deepened and Gabriel held back a chuckle.

“For…For two…”

“With pleasure, young master.”

The butler walked away and the two young men followed suit, leaving the empty threat forgotten.

 

+++

 

The dress maker arrived later that afternoon to take Raphael’s measurement. She brought a letter written by William, which Gabriel did not have the chance to read. Raphael’s expression was grim as he held the letter, then after studying a few lines, he crushed it.

“You may leave.”

Raphael gestured to the front door and the young lady turned pale.

“My apologies, sir, if I have offended you,” she stammered and dipped into a low bow. “It is my duty, so please let me leave after taking your measurements.”

“Tell Sir Macmillan that I have no intention to accept the role,” Raphael said dismissively and turned to walk away.

“Sir, please! It is not my place to convey such a message. I-I am just a dress maker…”

“She is right, Raphael.”

The famous singer whirled around, and the glare he wore showed no sign that he even remembered the sweet moment they shared earlier.

“You know nothing. Do not interfere.”

“Be more considerate,” Gabriel scolded. He could not approve of the arrogant attitude. “You are rich and powerful so you may not know, but ordinary people like us suffer when we cannot do our jobs right. Her life may be turned upside down if you do not let her take your measurements.”

Raphael hesitated and his glare softened. At least his words still had some impact, Gabriel thought in relief.

“I will not wear a dress. Do not make me repeat myself.”

“Then you may choose not to wear it, or even destroy it later, but let her make the dress first.”

By then, the young lady looked about to worship Gabriel, but he did not react. He merely watched Raphael and waited for him to relent. He had faith that Raphael was kind-hearted and would not intentionally make others suffer for his own purposes.

“Very well,” Raphael said with a heavy sigh. “Make it quick.”

“Thank you sir!”

She gathered her things and rushed over as Raphael beckoned. Gabriel tagged along to make sure that the peace was maintained. They arrived in an empty room and the lady got to work gratefully while Gabriel took a seat and observed.

“I think you should squat down a little. You are too tall and it is difficult for her to measure your shoulders.”

“Is this better?”

It was fun to see the proud castrato being so obedient. Raphael looked ridiculous with his legs apart and bent at the knees. The man himself seemed all right with the awkward pose though, and so Gabriel chose not to tell the man that he could have simply sat on a chair.

“Hold your arms out so that she can measure your chest.”

“I know. It is not my first time taking measurements.”

Gabriel chuckled as Raphael sulked. The model straightened his legs and did just as he was told, and he did not move an inch while the lady went about her work. Despite his height, riches and status, Raphael looked vulnerable in that instant with arms spread out. The lady held one end of the measuring tape, walked behind Raphael and looped her arm around to pick up the other end, all the while making sure not to touch him. As Gabriel watched her careful actions, he wondered if the same caution was present in all of Raphael’s relationships. He interacted with powerful figures on a daily basis and that surely meant he had to be extra careful with his words, lest he offended them and damaged his own reputation.

The castrato could not truly be himself even in front of his teacher, or rather, he was especially careful when it came to Emilio. Gabriel could still hear the desperate pleas and see the shaky kiss in his mind. The way Raphael worked to get Emilio’s recognition, to earn his nods and praises, far exceeded the casual sweet talking he did to the others. His stakes were the highest with his teacher who knew him for years. He was always so careful, like he was holding on to a fragile bubble, fearing that the rainbow in it would disappear if it burst. And despite how difficult it must have been, Raphael smiled through those days.

Gabriel could not imagine leading such a stressful life. But at least, Raphael did not need to be careful around him. He was nobody, Raphael could joke with him or vent his anger at him to his heart’s content, and Gabriel would not mind being his punching bag. Perhaps it was better for Raphael to not see Emilio ever again.

That was what he thought, but it was quickly challenged when night fell.

Raphael was a different person at night, Gabriel knew this since the first day he moved in. After the dress maker left, after his self-directed singing and harpsichord practices, and after entertaining a frequent visitor during dinner, Raphael sat at the porch and stared at the gates. He did not carry a lamp, he simply sat in the shadows of the clouds that covered the moon, and he looked small shrouded in darkness.

“If you miss him, go and see him.”

Raphael turned and gave a glare to say that he wanted to be alone. Gabriel answered the glare with a shrug, and he knew he was allowed an exception when Raphael sighed and went back to staring at the gates.

“Visiting him would mean accepting the role.”

Raphael did not deny that he missed Emilio, Gabriel noted sadly. He took a seat beside Raphael.

“And which is more important to you?”

“I am hoping not to choose.” Raphael’s words tumbled from his lips along with a sigh, and he held his head. “I did not mean to shout at him, Gabriel. I was just…overwhelmed. I never thought he would betray me.”

“But Emilio only did this because he had no choice.”

Gabriel’s slip of the tongue was met with a raised eyebrow. He had shocked himself, much less Raphael who did not even know he had gone to Emilio’s house in the morning. After all, Emilio was his rival in love. He was supposed to say negative things about him, not defend him.

“Did you speak with him yesterday when he was stopped at the gate?”

“No, I went to his house this morning.” Gabriel admitted, and he felt rather embarrassed when Raphael stared at him with clear admiration shining in his eyes.

“I cannot believe it. Did you…Did you, perhaps, do it for me?”

“It was for myself too!” Gabriel exclaimed and looked down to hide his blush. “I needed to know why.”

“Thank you, Gabriel.”

Raphael smiled and there was no prompt after that, but it only felt natural for Gabriel to share everything Emilio told him. The bond between the teacher and student was deep, and he did not think it was his place to withhold any information. He talked about how the other roles were taken by the time Emilio arrived, and very reluctantly, forced himself to declare William Macmillan’s perverted interest. Raphael did not seem surprised.

“This is within my guesses. I am not unaware. He is one of many and I know how to handle them.”

The nonchalant response was disturbing and Gabriel was tempted to pursue the topic. But even if he told Raphael not to give his body away so easily, he probably would not listen. Gabriel had no right to stop him.

“I do not know why Emilio is so anxious,” Raphael continued after a while. “Even if William hates me for declining the role and ruins my chances, my voice is still my own. I am sure I can continue to survive as a singer.”

“I think that is exactly what Emilio did not want. He wants you to thrive, not just survive.” Gabriel recalled the man’s exact words and his volume dipped when he spoke again. “If not, you would have been castrated for nothing.”

“He said that?” Raphael asked as he looked down at his clasped hands. “I see, he still…”

Suddenly, Raphael jumped to his feet. Gabriel jumped as well, from shock, though he remained seated. He was confused when the other bent over and grabbed his shoulders.

“Gabriel, ask me.”

“Ask what?”

“You hardly ask questions about me. I thought you have to write an article?”

“I do, but, what do I ask?”

Raphael shook his head.

“Ask how I was castrated, and I will tell you everything.”

It was hard to see Raphael’s face in the dark, but Gabriel could tell that he was completely serious. Then he understood; Raphael needed an excuse to talk about it truthfully. He must have lied to all other interviewers, kept silent from all other people, because from the way those fingers dug into his shoulders, he knew Raphael was desperate.

“How…” He hesitated and gulped.

On his very first day in this foreign country, he only wished to appreciate Raphael’s voice from a distance, but that had changed from one week of living together and being shown so many facets of the famous singer. That man could be a stubborn spoilt brat, a prideful celebrity, and a frivolous player. But he was also an adorable boy, a caring friend, and the loneliest person Gabriel had ever met. So despite being reluctant to hear about the unpleasant truth, and dreading to hear a story that only involved the castrato and his teacher, Gabriel simply could not deny Raphael.

“How were you castrated?” he asked.


	8. Chapter 8

“I had enough!”

The children who led the way to the hideout took a few steps backwards, feeling afraid and guilty. In front of them, Raphael, seven years old then, stood with fists clenched and trembling. He cast those traitors a hateful glance through angry tears that blurred his sight. Still, his glare was blocked by the one person he did not want to face. His teacher, Emilio, was like a wall that barred him from fun and joy. Forced into a corner, Raphael only knew to lash out.

“Why am I not allowed to play like everyone else?! Why must I study music?! I hate it! I hate you!”

Tear drops rolled down his cheeks and dripped on the ground, but he made no move to wipe them away. He was just so frustrated and suffocated that he hardly even noticed them. If only he did not run out to sing at the meadow two years ago, then he would not have met Emilio and would not be trapped in this never ending hell.

Yet at the same time, his own words hurt himself. He did not really hate Emilio, in fact, he loved his teacher more than anyone else. He would have been perfectly happy if Emilio played games with him and joined him every time he ran into the forest. But the older man only ever wanted to make him sing.

“You only love my voice. I hate you…I will not sing ever again!”

He had done it. He had always been afraid that if he stopped singing, Emilio would go away. The dilemma had been torturing him for too long and he had, in a fit of anger, made the choice that he did not want to make. His shoulders trembled helplessly and he squeezed his eyes shut, not daring to watch Emilio walk away from him.

However, the footsteps he dreaded to hear did not come. Instead he felt a rush of warmth as a pair of arms wrapped around his back. He opened his eyes and saw familiar black hair.

“I am sorry, Raphael.”

Relief and sadness overcame Raphael at that instant, and he broke into a loud sob. His own small arms found their way around Emilio’s neck and he nuzzled against the nook, wiping his tears on Emilio’s shirt.

“I am sorry,” he sobbed and tried to continue. “I did not mean it. I do not hate you…”

“No, I pushed you too hard.” Emilio said softly, and Raphael felt fingers stroking his hair. “Will you forgive me?”

The boy nodded amidst hiccups. Then he felt himself picked up from the ground. He hid his face immediately and stayed frozen. The children were still present, and they would laugh at him for being such a baby, but Raphael wanted to stay in Emilio’s arms no matter how embarrassing it was.

It took a while before Emilio stopped walking and when he was set down, he found himself in the middle of the very meadow where they first met. But unlike that summer, it was spring and wild flowers bloomed everywhere around them, their colours highlighted by the orange sunset. A floating petal landed on his nose and startled him, but before he could react, Emilio brushed it away for him.

“This place is beautiful, unlike my hometown. And your house, no matter how small and run down, is much warmer than my own would ever be,” Emilio said, his gaze faraway and his smile tender. “I love being here and I am ever grateful to have met you.”

Raphael blushed while fighting back the returning urge to cry. He did not know how to react, because his teacher hardly talked to him about things other than music. He also could not imagine why Emilio was glad to have met him; after all he must be the worst student his teacher had ever taught.

“I was born into a family of musicians, so strict training came naturally to me. But I forgot that you were born free and I only managed to make you hate music.”

Raphael kept silent. He did not want Emilio to sound so sad, but he feared that claiming he liked music so would lead him back to the rigorous lessons that he hated. It was back to square one, he was facing the same dilemma. He glanced down at the ground, suddenly wanting to run away from Emilio again.

Some rustling of clothes disrupted his anxiety and Raphael looked up to see Emilio reaching into his coat to pull out the small wooden flute that he always brought along with him.

“Do you mind if I played a tune? It is difficult to suppress the melody in my head when faced with such a beautiful scenery.”

Raphael nodded though he only understood half of what his teacher said. A shrill note pierced the air as he began and it was sustained before flowing into a light melody. It was a cheerful tune, even playful at some points with the spontaneous turns and trills. Emilio had his eyes closed as he played the free-spirited song, and Raphael gazed at him in awe, temporarily forgetting his troubles. His teacher was amazing, and he thought the beauty of the music shamed the flowers.

“What song is that?” he asked when Emilio finished.

“I just came up with it.”

Raphael gawked. He meant no disrespect but he found it hard to believe that something so nice could be made on the spot.

“This is called improvisation,” Emilio explained with an amused smile. “It is not that difficult once you know the basics.”

“I want to do that too!” Raphael blurted out in excitement. “I want to sing in any way I like!” And it was only after those words left his mouth that he realised he had just put himself back into hell. He clasped his mouth with both hands and looked fearfully at his teacher.

Emilio broke into a laugh and ruffled Raphael’s hair.

“Sing, Raphael, and show me how much you can remember of the melody I just played.”

Accepting the challenge distracted Raphael from the mistake he made earlier. His eyes turned upwards as he tried to recall, and he began when he was ready. Bits and pieces came to him and he voiced them with pauses in between. The more he sang, the more he remembered, and he tried to join the scraps of melody without Emilio telling him to do so. He stopped only when he was satisfied with it, and he turned to look at his teacher for approval.

“Fantastic. Some parts were inaccurate, but I am impressed by your memory. I was not wrong to deem that you have a gift when I first heard you sing.”

Raphael beamed at the compliment, but it was quickly erased when Emilio added, “that is why you have to work hard. You should not let your talent go to waste.”

Raphael frowned, feeling like he had fallen into a trap, and he could not refute his teacher’s words. He did not feel as indignant as earlier, but he was still hesitant.

“Will you… Will you play with me if I work hard?” Raphael asked timidly.

“I see,” Emilio sighed and took in a deep breath. “I should have known earlier. Two years and I am still inapt. I ought to be ashamed of myself.”

Raphael cocked his head to the side, not understanding. Then he saw Emilio reach out to him and felt warmth against his cheek. It was a gesture that Raphael loved. The touch was very gentle and it made him feel special. He closed his eyes and leaned into it.

“I will become a better teacher for you. So will you continue to sing for me?”

“Yes,” Raphael replied softly. It could not be helped, there was no way he could refuse Emilio. He hated studying, but he wanted to spend more time with Emilio, so if he was allowed that, then he did not mind putting in just a little more effort.

+++

“He doted on me thereafter, gave me almost everything I wanted as long as I practised and tried my best. Because of that I improved tremendously. By the time I was nine, I had already performed in several churches in town. On my tenth birthday, instead of celebrating like an ordinary child would, I performed in a concert for the wealthy. But I was fine with it, because Emilio was with me.”

Raphael sat on the ground with his side facing Gabriel, and he sounded happy as he recounted his past. Gabriel only nodded; he did not want to speak up and reveal how he felt. He knew his voice would divulge the sour jealousy that brewed inside.

“Come to think of it, that concert might have been what changed my life.” Raphael said. “My parents received a big sum of money for letting me perform, and they finally appreciated my singing.”

 

+++

 

Raphael was woken up by a crash in the middle of the night. He rubbed his eyes and got out of bed, worried that something bad had happened. Emilio, who had decided to stay for the night and was supposed to be sleeping on the mattress next to him, was nowhere to be seen. The door was ajar. Holding onto it with both hands, Raphael peeped out at the shadowy figures and recognised them to be his parents. At their feet lay glass shards that reflected the illumination of a lone candle and helped to brighten the place. Raphael tilted to look at the other side of the room, and there another stood, facing his parents.

He heaved a sigh of relief; there was no stranger in the house and his parents were just talking to Emilio. Perhaps they accidentally dropped a glass cup. A yawn escaped him as he took a step from behind the door, thinking to join the conversation.

“Please reconsider.”

The appeal was uttered in a low tone, and it made Raphael halt. He sensed that something was wrong; Emilio had always spoken politely to his parents and his voice was never this cold.

“This affects his whole life and there will be no turning back,” Emilio whispered. “He does not need to do this. He is good enough the way he is.”

His parents said something in response, but it was too soft and muffled to hear. They had their heads bowed and it reminded Raphael of how he acted whenever Emilio caught him skiving. Did his parents do something wrong? He shifted uncomfortably and contemplated going back to sleep. They seemed to be talking about him, and he was not sure if he wanted to hear the exact content.

The adults continued whispering and arguing, until at last, his usually good-natured father put an end to the conversation.

“You teach him, and we thank you,” he said sternly. “But I am his father, not you.”

A terse silence followed and Raphael grew anxious. He was confused, only half-awake and he just wanted Emilio to return to their room so that they could hold hands and sleep. Hoping that it was all right, he stepped out and revealed himself.

“Dad, Mom, it is late,” he said, feeling insecure about interrupting. “Can we go to sleep?”

He held a hand out to his teacher then, and it was taken immediately.

“Did we wake you up? Do not worry, go back inside.”

Raphael shook his head when Emilio tried to push him back to his room, and he pulled Emilio’s hand.

“Emilio, I want you with me.”

The rest of that night was a hazy memory. Raphael remembered that Emilio relented and they held hands until he fell asleep, like they always did. But he also vaguely registered Emilio hugging him and kissing his forehead. He woke up several more times that night, and Emilio was awake every single time to coax him back to sleep.

When he woke up in the morning, he was told that he would be going to town with Emilio.

Raphael was overjoyed. He did not have to perform that day, and this meant that Emilio was just bringing him around town for fun. He chose to wear the nicest clothes he had. He waved goodbye to his parents, though they were busy tending the farm and did not turn to face him. Then he held Emilio’s hand in both of his own and walked towards the horse carriage that waited for them.

But despite his excitement, he was aware that Emilio did not feel the same. The man looked distraught and his lips were drawn tight. Raphael could guess that it had something to do with what happened last night, but he did not think it was a big problem. He could sing something for Emilio later and cheer him up. Emilio always cheered him up with music, so he was sure he could do the same for his teacher.

They alighted from the carriage at an intersection as before them lay streets that were too narrow to accommodate it.

“Where are we going?” Raphael asked.

His teacher did not reply. The boy followed the line of sight of those light blue eyes and found them studying the road sign that had arrows pointing in different directions. Suddenly, his hand was gripped tightly.

“Raphael,” Emilio called in a surge of determination. “Let us -”

Then as abruptly as it started, the burst of tension left Emilio and the grip loosened.

They walked in the narrow streets in silence. Raphael thought it best not to speak up until they reached their destination and he prepared to gently ask Emilio what was wrong once the older man was ready to talk. Deep in thought, he did not realise that Emilio stopped until he felt a tug.

“Listen to me, Raphael,” His teacher clasped his shoulders as the door beside them opened. “It will not hurt. You have to be brave.”

“Brave…?”

“This way, Mr Castello.”

A man dressed in white greeted and ushered them inside. Raphael saw curtains and smoke, heard the clanging of metal, and smelled an odd fragrance in the air. The place was clean, too clean. He looked to Emilio for explanation but there was none. There was none even when he was told to change into a robe and lie on the table. A tray of knives, scissors and other strange apparatuses lay beside him, and they too did not provide any explanation.

“What is going on?” He asked and saw Emilio wince. “What is going to happen to me?”

Plastic encased his nose and mouth and he let out a startled yelp. He was swiftly assaulted by the fragrance he smelled earlier, except at a much greater concentration. He kept his eyes pinned on Emilio, and he did not look away, did not dare to look anywhere else, even as the image of his teacher swirled. For a while, he heard nothing but his own rapid heartbeat and his skin felt flushed. Then an induced wave of calm washed over him and he could no longer feel his limbs.

He knew his legs were spread apart. He knew, but he could not do anything.

“Emilio,” he whispered, or only mouthed, he could not tell. “I am scared…I am scared…”

He knew that his hand was clasped in Emilio’s, and in a strange moment of clarity, he saw tears at the corners of his teacher’s shut eyes. The moisture glistened like jewels and each drop enlarged and diminished as his head throbbed. Darkness washed over him and he fell asleep, but he was awake again before he knew it. And in that dazed alternation between void and reality, he only watched as Emilio cried for him.

 

+++

 

“Do you know that a castrated man is denied of marriage by law?” Raphael asked the question after a long and heavy silence. The listener shook his head and the speaker elaborated. “It is deemed unproductive. A woman is better off marrying a proper man and bearing his child. So you see, even if I meet a lady I truly love, we will not be granted happiness.”

It hurt. It was agonising to listen to Raphael, especially when he spoke in such a matter-of-fact manner, as if the story did not concern him. Gabriel grasped his knees and worked to regulate his breathing.

“My parents knew this and yet casually doomed me to a life of loneliness. They did not even have the decency to accompany their son to the surgery. But despite everything that happened, I still love them. It is just…now you understand why I do not get along with them.” Raphael added with a wry smile. “As for Emilio, he blamed himself for my predicament and that is why he feels it his duty to ensure my success in the world of music. Though if you asked me, I will say a million times over that it was not his fault. And it pains me to know that he still feels so responsible over the act that was beyond his control.”

Gabriel nodded and sniffed. That caught Raphael’s attention, and he turned to look at Gabriel incredulously.

“Wait, are you crying?”

It was unintentional, Gabriel had not wanted to cry. It was embarrassing and he wanted to deny that it was happening, but only a sob escaped when he parted his lips.

“You are really crying!” Raphael exclaimed and Gabriel wished he could melt away into the darkness. The taller man poked him with his elbow and even tried to hold his face. “I cannot believe it. Hah! Why are  _you_  crying?”

“Leave me alone,” he said while clumsily defending himself against the playful pokes at his ribs.

“I am sure your article will turn out great with all the details I just fed you,” Raphael said with a casual smile. “You should rejoice.”

“How can I ever rejoice over your suffering?!”

It just came out. He had wanted to keep his emotions under control, but they were too much to bear. Raphael dropped his smile, and the fingers that messed up Gabriel’s hair slowed into a caress.

“If it were me,” Gabriel said, softer this time. “I would have taken you and run away.”

It was the truth. Even if it meant that Raphael would not be able to sing as well as he could now, Gabriel sincerely thought that it would have been better for the man if he was not castrated. He must have suffered after the surgery. Not only would the wound hurt, the heavy dosage of opium must have led to withdrawal symptoms. Raphael was only ten then. Only ten.

“You are really not suited for your job, are you?” Raphael said.

“That is not for you to judge.” Wiping off his tears, Gabriel stood up and extended a hand. “Forget about music. Forget about the opera,” he declared. “Let us walk around town the whole of tomorrow and visit everywhere you want to go.”

“But -”

“Just for one day. Just let me make you happy for one day.”

His palm waited, and for a while, he feared that he would hold only emptiness. He was being presumptuous and rash; it would be perfectly understandable if Raphael laughed and dismissed him. Still, he waited, and he was so glad he did because what he feared did not happen.

Raphael took his hand.

“Sounds wonderful,” Raphael admitted and showed the toothy grin that Gabriel loved. “I cannot wait.”


	9. Chapter 9

Gabriel thought he was well-dressed enough for the occasion. His hair was styled to the side and he wore the best clothes he brought along to this country. He had spent almost an hour in his room earlier checking himself in front of the mirror and making sure he did not look unworthy as Raphael’s companion. His coat was neatly pressed, thanks to Stefano, and his shoes were polished enough to reflect light, but all his effort turned out to be in vain.

“Good morning, Gabriel!” Raphael greeted at the foot of the stairs. “You look amazing!”

There really were such people in the world who could blind others without even trying. Raphael was sparkling so brightly Gabriel almost had to shield his eyes. The tall, rich and handsome man looked like a groom ready to fetch his bride, and Gabriel’s eyebrows twitched at the thought that he was the ‘bride’ in this comparison.

“Are you performing for a concert of which I am unaware?” Gabriel asked dryly.

Raphael cocked his head to the side, not understanding the sarcasm, until the other pointed at his clothes.

Having caught on, Raphael looked down at what he wore with more self-consciousness. “Is this still too formal? I tried my best to pick something nice and casual.”

What was with that bashfulness?! Gabriel held his head and deliberated his options. Now that Raphael looked so insecure, it was hard to tell him to change out of his clothes. But he did not want to, absolutely refused to, walk in the streets with the famous castrato dressed in full glory.

“Raphael,” Gabriel started, still rubbing his temples. “It may be impudent of me to say so, but I really think you should change into the least pleasant outfit in your wardrobe, because I am sure even that would be at least ten times nicer than what I am wearing.”

“That is not true,” Raphael argued, completely missing the point. “You look perfect, like a prince!”

Gabriel scolded himself for blushing. Had he not already established with himself that it was just one of Raphael’s weird habits to shower him with compliments and they most probably meant nothing?

“You are the one who looks like a prince. Like a king, even. And I look like a beggar beside you,” he said and pushed Raphael up the stairs. “So please do me the favour of changing into your worst set of clothes.”

“But I do not want to look awful when I go out with you.”

“Nonsense. I am sure you look fabulous even if you wear nothing.”

Raphael froze in the midst of his climb, and Gabriel finally realised when he just said. He covered his burning face, too flustered to even apologise.

“Gabriel, you do know that it is a crime to go out on the streets fully nak-”

“I know, I know! You do not have to tell me.” Gabriel shoved Raphael. “I-It was a slip of the tongue. Now please get changed. I-I will wait for you right here.”

“If you insist.”

Gabriel sighed in relief, but his eyes remained on Raphael and he wondered what else about the man’s appearance bothered him.

“Raphael,” he called out. “Let your hair down. I like… I mean, you do not want others to recognise you on the streets, do you?”

“Oh, you are right.”

Gabriel leaned against the wall as he waited, listening to the clock ticking and his heart beating. He took a few deep breaths to calm down, but he still felt as nervous as when he went for his first job interview. His parents were there to give encouragement then, telling him that things would go well as long as he tried his best. So even though ‘trying his best to hold back’ seemed like a strange resolve on a day that was supposed to be fun, that was what Gabriel told himself over and over. He always spoke his mind, but this day would have to be an exception. There were things he did not want to confess yet, and one example was how he liked it more when Raphael let down his hair.

 

+++

 

Raphael stood out from the crowd, literally. It was no use dodging when the taller man stood like a beacon. Gabriel could not avoid the eye beams aimed at his direction, and he was especially wary of the ladies who looked long and hard at Raphael. Even though he made the celebrity wear a cap, it was still a poor disguise. Gabriel feared that the castrato’s identity would be exposed even before mid-day.

“Bless my eyes, is that…?”

Gabriel grabbed Raphael’s hand and made a sharp turn into an alley. He had no idea where the voice came from, or whether the speaker was referring to Raphael, but he ran anyway. This day was important to him and he would not let themselves be caught so easily.

“Gabriel, wait, you are too fast!”

“You have longer legs, surely you can keep up.”

Ignoring Raphael’s protest, he worked his way down the unfamiliar narrow streets and tried to find a place with fewer people. He was getting desperate. He had planned to bring Raphael to the bookshop he liked, dine at an alfresco trattoria, visit all the curiosity shops down the side lane before ending the day by watching the circus, but none of that was successful so far because of the attention that man attracted.

“They might spot you if we sit down at a restaurant. I think we have to picnic in a more secluded area.” Gabriel said and squeezed Raphael’s hand. “The food will not be as nice as that prepared in your house but please bear with it.”

“I am fine with that, but first, slow down!”

A sharp tug almost sent Gabriel falling backwards. He waved his arms to regain balance, and they were caught just in time by Raphael who had stepped forward to block his path.

“I am tired,” Raphael complained, huffing slightly from all the brisk walking. “I do not want to rush around the whole day. I wish to enjoy my time with you.”

Gabriel looked down, ashamed of himself. He had been so bent on fulfilling his plans that he had neglected to consider Raphael’s feelings. But right when he opened his mouth to apologise, an ominous rumble sounded from above.

The two of them looked up at the sky and then looked at each other, finding it hard to believe their rotten luck. Since when had the dark clouds gathered? They asked themselves and were answered only by tiny droplets of rain landing on their heads.

“I forgot to bring an umbrella,” Raphael stated and Gabriel nodded.

Then they simultaneously broke into a run.

The rainfall quickly turned from a teasing drizzle to a merciless downpour, and the heavy raindrops cast a veil over their vision.

“Why is there no shelter?!” Gabriel shouted, fighting to be heard over the loud noise of rain pelting against cobblestones.

“I have no idea! Oh, that way!”

Raphael pulled Gabriel along, heading for a closed shop that had a small shelter over the door. The former reached first, and the latter crashed headlong against his chest from the momentum. Gabriel stumbled away immediately, afraid that he had hurt Raphael, but arms went around his back and pulled him back into the embrace.

“There is no space. You will be drenched if you take another step back.”

“Well, I am already drenched.”

Gabriel grumbled, and he shortly felt tremors from the chest he leaned against. Hearty laughter rang in his ears and it was so infectious that Gabriel began laughing too, though he knew not why. Their hug tightened subconsciously as they laughed together, and when Gabriel pressed his face into Raphael’s wet clothes and felt the warmth that seeped through, he was reminded once again how much he liked this person.

“And I…And I just said that I did not want to rush!” Raphael said when he paused to catch his breath.

“Now you get to enjoy your time properly,” Gabriel said, and they chuckled some more.

“The irony!”

At last the need for air stopped their laughter. Gabriel pulled away while Raphael slumped against the door behind him, stuck out his tongue and pretended to be dead.

“Tired?” Gabriel asked and smiled fondly at the childlike behaviour. “I am sorry but you will have to bear with the hunger at least until the rain lets up.”

“I do not mind missing a meal,” Raphael replied. “It is worth the rare experience of getting caught in the rain. Though, I do wish the rain stops soon so that we can walk around town more.”

“I wish the same.”

They waited in silence for a while, too exhausted to say anything. Gabriel supported himself with one hand on the door and he looked up to see Raphael’s eyelids drooping. Rain did that to people. It was something about the low temperature and consistent sound that induced drowsiness. Gabriel removed the cap that Raphael wore, brushed a stray strand of hair away from his face, and earned a little smile.

“Thank you, Gabriel,” the man said with eyes closed.

“You can sleep if you want. There is enough space as long as you fold your legs.”

Raphael shook his head.

“I am fine. You will hardly have any space left if I did that.”

Gabriel wanted to say that he did not mind, but the words dissipated before they came out of his throat. He was distracted by Raphael’s dense eye lashes, his tall nose and his slightly parted mouth, and he wondered how many people had seen this same sight in such proximity. There was Emilio, to be sure, since he was the only person whom he saw tasted Raphael’s lips.

What about the ladies? How many others had seen Raphael like this?  
How many people was he above? What place did he hold in Raphael’s heart?

The questions tugged insistently at his mind and made him anxious. He hovered a thumb over those lips, afraid to touch yet reluctant to give up. His thumb drew nearer as he imagined how soft those lips must be, but at last, it fell away, and he settled with just watching.

Three consecutive sneezes broke the tender moment, and Gabriel laughed as Raphael rubbed his red nose.

“I better stay awake,” the man said as he straightened himself, “I may catch a cold if I sleep.”

“That is true. Well then, shall we play some word games to stay awake?”

Just being like this with Raphael, hiding from the rain and playing childish games in their own world, was enough for Gabriel. After all, his priority was not himself. As long as he could remove Raphael’s worries for this one day, he was satisfied.

 

+++

 

The rain fell at intervals and the two of them managed to find a proper place where they could sit indoors and fill their stomachs. Gabriel felt apologetic to his mother, but the food in this country was delicious and so much better than what he could find back home. He did not need the meat and seafood served in Raphael’s home, he just needed this plate of pasta with the plain yet incredibly tasty sauce. The food was gone in an instant, and Gabriel was surprised that Raphael wolfed down everything at the same pace as him. The wealthy man enjoyed behaving like a stereotypical commoner and he even burped in such an unsightly manner his fans would have cried if they witnessed.

They walked aimlessly after that and entered several toy shops. Raphael loved the one with the wooden puppets the most. Everything there was handcrafted by the old man who lived in that shop house alone. Business was poor in that district and many customers favoured the new spring driven toys over the old-fashioned wooden puppets. Not Raphael though; he bought twenty in one go and said he would give them to the children in his village. He praised the workmanship and the designs, but Gabriel knew the other reason. Despite how haughty he might look, Raphael had a soft spot for the elderly.

At last, they went to the circus as planned and were treated to a fantastic evening with stunning acrobatics and dangerous animal stunts. Raphael had his cap pulled low and they sat amidst families and children. They blended with the crowd and nobody cared about them. With the dim lighting and engaging performances, Gabriel did not have to worry about people recognising Raphael. They gasped whenever an acrobat was tossed into the air, grabbed each other’s arm during the intense knife-throwing, and laughed when the joker fell on his butt after a failed magic trick.

Raphael was drunk in happiness by the time the show ended.

“That was great!” He exclaimed with wide flourish. “I was so scared that the beast would bite off the man’s head, but it did not. Simply amazing!”

Gabriel reached up and patted Raphael’s head.

“I am glad you enjoyed yourself.”

“I sure did! It was the best I ever watched!” Raphael said, and after a pause, added, “How about you? I hope I am not the only one who enjoyed.”

“Of course I did,” Gabriel replied with a grin and held himself from explaining why. More than from the show, Gabriel’s joy was found from all the various expressions Raphael wore this day. He also did not go on to talk about the melancholy he felt. Their outing was so fun that hours had passed like minutes, and Gabriel could not bear for the day to end.

Makeshift stalls were set up around the circus tent, and Gabriel’s eyes scanned them. He wanted to buy Raphael a memento, so the man might remember the joy they had this day even after he returned to his country. It was the one and only selfish desire that he could allow himself to fulfil.

“Raphael, wait for me here,” Gabriel said and jogged off to a stall a distance away. The gemstones there had caught his attention, and he thought something of that brilliance would complement Raphael’s outfits. It was hard for him to choose one though, some of the colours flared in a way that did not match the man’s personality while the shape of some were too flamboyant. That and, admittedly, he only had so much money to spare and could not afford most of the available selection. Worried to keep the other waiting, he made his decision as quickly as he could and chose the one that he thought suited Raphael the most. It was surprisingly painless when he saw all the money in his wallet go.

“Close your eyes.”

“Huh? Why?” Raphael asked, and Gabriel grew more anxious.

“Just close your eyes, I will not hurt you.”

Gabriel waited until the other complied before he took out the pendant along with its chain. It was a challenge to fasten it around the taller man’s neck, but he was rewarded when he took a step back and admired his work. He had chosen a white moonstone pendant and it looked as wonderful on Raphael as he thought it would.

“You can open your eyes now.”

Eagerly awaiting Raphael’s response, Gabriel held his breath as those eyelids fluttered open. He was ready to be scolded by Raphael for spending so much money, and it was all right as long as the man appreciated the gift. It would be a bonus if Raphael grinned widely enough to show his teeth.

However, the reaction that came was completely out of Gabriel’s expectations.

Raphael stared down at the pendant and a look of shock and disgust crossed his face. He reached up in panic, grabbed hold of the chain and in one yank, tore it away from his neck. The pendant slipped from the chain and fell on the ground, but Gabriel did not look at it. His eyes were held in a glare that branded him as traitor.

“Why did you give something like that to me?” Raphael interrogated, his demeanour a sharp contrast from his usual cheer. “It is something you would give a woman, so why did you give it to me?”

“I…”

Gabriel swallowed. The chain was short and thin, and there was a flowery metal motif around the gemstone. It looked feminine, and in his impulsive desire to buy a gift, he had forgotten how much Raphael hated being seen as a woman. Not knowing what else to do, Gabriel apologised.

“I am sorry. I did not mean to ruin your evening.”

People passed them by and looked on with curiosity as the two stood frozen in their position. Gabriel shut his eyes, blaming himself for being careless and inconsiderate. If only he had not bought that wretched thing, they would have returned to the mansion with smiles on their faces. Now he dared not even look at Raphael. The glare had wounded him, and he was not ready to take on more rejection.

“…No, it is fine.” Raphael said stiffly after minutes passed. “You did not know. You meant well. But I cannot accept your gift. Please understand.”

“Yes I understand. Do not worry, it costs but a penny.”

Gabriel tried to put on a brave front when Raphael turned away. He then looked at the pendant and, thinking it pitiful, picked it up and slipped it into his pocket secretly. Ahead, Raphael paused and waited for him, and though it was a simple gesture, it convinced Gabriel that their friendship was not shattered from this one incident. He quickened his steps and caught up.

“I am sorry,” Raphael whispered while looking straight ahead.

Gabriel tried to smile. “It is unlike you to apologise,” he said.

They remained silent on their way back, but their hands brushed against each other’s often. It might be Gabriel’s wishful thinking, but he believed it was Raphael’s awkward way of trying to repair their relationship. So even though his wallet was empty and his gift was rejected, Gabriel still felt a tiny bit of joy.


	10. Chapter 10

Stefano came to him before dawn, coughing. When asked whether he needed to see a doctor, he said he just needed rest but was worried about the other duties in the house. Raphael left all household decisions to him, from managing expenditure to maintaining cleanliness to preparing the menu for each meal. Five maids lived in the servants’ quarter, the cook was arriving and the gardener was scheduled to trim the garden this day. Groceries had to be bought, laundry had to be sent to the washerwoman and the coachman had to be paid for his services this week.

Gabriel’s head spun as he scribbled everything down in his notebook. Though he had observed Stefano at work for the past few days, he had not expected this sheer quantity of tasks. He did not even know there were maids living in the house, he hardly even saw one. But it would be too cruel to decline Stefano’s call for help, especially when the old man hacked away once every few sentences.

“May I ask, what usually happens when you fall ill?”

Raphael seemed to only trust Stefano, it was hard to imagine him delegating such important tasks to just any other servant.

“I usually seek help from Mr Castello,” Stefano said, “but young master does not want to see him now.”

That made sense, Gabriel gave a self-depreciating nod. He knew Stefano did not mean to insult, but what more direct way was there to imply that Gabriel was only a substitute? An inferior substitute, to be exact.

Nevertheless, Gabriel remained positive. He stood before Raphael’s room holding the man’s outfit of the day when it was time for the morning call, and he knocked thrice at the pace Stefano instructed him to. The feeble order for him to enter made Gabriel smile. Raphael sounded so grumpy it tempted Gabriel to knock a few more times just to annoy him. He resisted that urge though, and dutifully entered.

“Stefano, water,” Raphael mumbled and stretched out a hand. His eyes were still closed, his posture was horrible and the blanket that was half kicked-off clung stubbornly to his waist and tangled with his legs. Gabriel almost snorted.

“Yes, young master,” he answered, trying to mimic Stefano’s deep voice. However it came out a little deeper than intended, and he ended up sounding like someone else he knew.

“Huh? Emilio?”

“Wrong guess,” Gabriel sighed and gave up the pretence. He knelt by the bed, guided the outstretched hand to his own face, and waited for the sleepy man to regain awareness. “It is I.”

Raphael yelped, backed away, lost his balance because of the restrictive blanket and fell off the bed. “G-Gabriel?! Why are you…? Where am I? Huh?”

Momentary confusion made the castrato’s voice climb higher than usual. Gabriel held his stomach and doubled over, until the young master was awake enough to glare at him.

“Who gave you permission to enter?”

“Who else but you?” Gabriel shrugged. “Stefano is not feeling well today. He asked me to take over for the day.”

At the mention of the old butler, Raphael’s fury melted away.

“That is troubling. I have to see him.”

“It will be better not to disturb his rest. He had just fallen asleep.”

Brows still knotted in worry, Raphael pulled away the mess of blanket and stood up.

“I will see him later then,” he said and simply waited.

For a while, nothing happened as Gabriel continued standing in the room and being confused. Then struck by a bolt of ingenuity, he held up the outfit he brought in and chimed, “Shall I help you to get changed?”

“No, I am waiting for you to leave my room!” Came the flustered retort. “Do weeds grow in your brain?!”

Gabriel gave an air-headed laugh and did as he was told, gently shutting the door behind him once he was outside. Raphael might have sounded angry, but Gabriel was starting to understand the man better. He had the tendency to cover embarrassment with anger and concern with complaint. Also, Raphael hesitated in telling him to leave, and that was likely because he wanted to avoid making things tense between them.

Raphael was no longer angry at him for making the mistake last night. That was great.

Taking out his notebook, Gabriel checked to see what his next course of action should be. Thankfully Stefano’s instructions were specific. He could get past the day if he made sure to be meticulous. After memorising some details, he snapped the book shut with his fingers, pushed it back into the pocket of his trousers and headed for the kitchen.

One day of being butler for the famous castrato sounded fun.

 

+++

 

A call from the gate made Gabriel lift his head from the table. He was exhausted from running up and down the mansion in the morning but he could not afford to rest, it seemed. He opened his notebook to see who the visitor might be, and he was puzzled because Stefano had made no mention of any scheduled visits for the day. He adjusted the coat he wore – a butler had to be presentable at all times – before making his way out.

“Sir, I apologise for keeping you waiting.”

The man who stood on the other side was a man past forty with an average build and a slight pot belly. His outfit was modest and he wore an amiable smile.

“Ah, I was unaware he had such a young servant,” the man said with a voice that lacked energy. “Will you call Raphael Armento out for me?”

“Pardon me but may I inquire for your identity and purpose of visit?” Gabriel asked politely. It was his duty to check even though this person appeared dignified and proper.

“Oh! My apologies, I must have forgotten to send my visiting card prior to my arrival,” he said with a good-natured laugh and searched his pockets. “Here it is. You may bring it to your master.”

Gabriel received the card with both hands and read the name printed on it. Then his eyes widened and his lips downturned.

William Crain Macmillan.

It was him. This was the person Emilio was talking about. The composer who forced Raphael into the opera. The pervert who wanted to see him in a dress. But how could it be that looks were so deceiving? The man standing before him looked nothing like the monster he had painted in his mind, and he had difficulty reconciling that extreme difference.

Gabriel sucked in a breath to keep himself from bending the card, or from tearing it and throwing the pieces back at its owner. There was no way he would let the pervert meet Raphael. Even if there was a misunderstanding and this man was in fact not a pervert, his stand remained the same. He would rather get run down by horses than expose even the slightest risk to Raphael.

“My apologies,” he started, and his mind whirled while coming up with an excuse. “I am afraid your visit will need to be rescheduled to a later date because…”

“Gabriel, who is that?”

Idiot! He cursed under his breath as he turned, hoping in vain that Raphael would drop the notion and remain in the safety of the mansion. For once he actually had the power and opportunity to protect him, yet things did not go as he wanted. The door opened against his wish, and the one he was desperate to protect stepped out to harm on his own accord.

“Gab-”

Whatever Raphael had wanted to say was lost to the world as he saw his visitor and recognised the man. Though unlike Gabriel, there was not a hint of panic on the singer’s face.

“Raphael!” William greeted warmly. “It is my honour to meet you at last.”

“You exaggerate, Maestro Macmillan. The honour is mine and I welcome you to my humble abode.” Raphael said with a professional smile. “Please, allow me to escort you inside.”

“Wonderful, wonderful indeed.”

The gate creaked open and Gabriel watched helplessly as that man’s hand wound conveniently around Raphael’s arm. He kept his eyes pinned on the duo, searching Raphael for signs of discomfort. If there was any at all, he would stop at nothing to pry them apart. Just as he was thinking that, Raphael sneaked a glance at him.

It told him not to interfere.

Gabriel clenched his fists and his expression turned grim. Like what he thought in the morning, he was really beginning to understand the man. If Raphael truly did not want Gabriel to interfere, he would not have bothered turning back to look at him.

It was a cry for help. Raphael needed him, and he would not disappoint.

 

+++

 

From behind a wall, Gabriel stalked their conversation. For the first few minutes, they had only talked about things that did not matter, and Raphael was able to handle that sort of small talk well. Now, they were finally going into the actual topic, the reason for the maestro’s visit.

“I was starting to worry. You never showed up at the rehearsals.” William said after taking a sip of tea. He then leaned back on the couch and extended his arm across Raphael’s back. “Have you been busy with other commitments?”

“Regarding that, Maestro,” Raphael said in his sweetest voice and lowered the cup he held. “I have read the libretto and I find myself drawn to the bravado of the lead character, Ariodant. It is incredible how the verses breathed life into him. Your story has fully captivated my heart.”

“Hah, I feel embarrassed by your praises! But Raphael, do not shy from my question.” The deceptively innocent man leaned closer to his prize. “I wish to know why you were absent from my rehearsals.”

“...Please, I beg that you hear my explanation.” Flattery did not work, so he switched to acting pitiful and compliant. “I would never skip your rehearsals without reason. Maestro, the truth is I am inexperienced in taking on a female role and am having difficulties melding into my designated role. I feel too ashamed to show up at your rehearsals when I am this unprepared, and I seek your forgiveness.”

“So, that is why. Then I question Emilio’s ability. He did agree to ensure your preparedness for this performance, and I am surprised that he did nothing to help you.”

Raphael visibly flinched. Those words were said with a tone that carried little weight, but the effect was not diminished. It was a threat. That sly fox was using Emilio to pressurise Raphael into relenting.

“No, this has nothing to do with Emilio.”

Detecting the first leak of panic, William’s smile broadened.

“Oh? Then I reckon that you will be present for the rehearsal tomorrow evening. After all, it would not be appropriate to wash your dear teacher’s efforts down the drain, would it?”

Gabriel gritted his teeth, finding it harder and harder to remain hidden. He was not as good as Raphael in the arts of negotiations, but it was obvious that William had gained the upper hand. That sharp man had not even given Raphael a chance to propose an alternative.

What could he do? There must be something he could say to help Raphael. There must be a plausible reason for rejecting the role that would not diminish Raphael’s and Emilio’s reputation.

Summoning his courage, he walked out and bowed before the two of them.

“My most sincere apologies for the interruption,” Gabriel bowed and said. “I would like to remind young master about the appointment with the doctor in an hour.”

“Doctor?” Raphael whispered, and Gabriel’s heart clenched to see the man so distraught.

“For your feet, young master, the…the pain at your heels.”

“What is this about?” William asked, full of concern. “Are you not feeling well?”

Gabriel exchanged another meaningful look with Raphael, and he was relieved when the man caught on.

“Please, do not concern yourself. It is a small problem, though it causes me agony whenever I wear tight shoes,” Raphael said and then quickly added before he lost his chance, “I am afraid I will not be able to wear woman’s shoes, and so I would like to discuss the possibility of a switch of roles.”

William rested his elbows on his knees and hummed, deep in thought. Relieved that the excuse worked, Gabriel gathered the empty tea pot and walked away to refill it. He had to behave like a dutiful butler for his act to be convincing. Still, his worry climbed with every second the kettle took to boil, and he hated that he could not see the sitting room from where he stood.

His took large steps as he made his way back, and he strained his ears to hear them before he reached.

“Look, this is just the inner dress, and it is already long enough to cover your feet.”

“Please, Maestro, stop…!”

The anxious plea was the final straw. Gabriel dashed back, scolding himself for being stupid. He should never have left Raphael alone with that pervert, no matter what the reason was.

When he arrived and saw the leering man pressing a dress against Raphael’s chest, he snapped. The teapot left his hand in a swing, flew in mid-air and crashed to the floor right before William. Steaming hot water splattered at that man’s feet and some of it soaked his trousers. William yelped, dropped the dress and hopped backwards whereas Raphael stared at the scene in horror and took a longer time to react.

“Maestro,” he feigned concern, “are you all right?”

Gabriel remained still as William brushed aside Raphael and walked towards him. He held the eye contact, held the defiant glare, until a palm whipped harshly across his cheek and forced his head sideways.

“Worthless fool!” William spat before turning to Raphael. “I will teach this dimwit a lesson on your behalf, if you like.”

“Maestro I am most apologetic for this accident,” Raphael stammered and swallowed. “Gabriel is… This servant is new and still undergoing training. If you can find it in your magnanimous heart to forgive him…”

“Of course. Though I imagine you will make up for your servant’s _accident_ by coming to the rehearsal tomorrow. I will not take ‘no’ for an answer, Raphael, especially not after what just happened.”

With that, William picked up his belongings and headed for the door. Raphael did not escort him to the gate, he merely stood without moving and took rapid shallow breaths. They heard the door click shut, followed by the rattling of the gates. They waited a few more seconds after that, for that man to be completely out of ear shot.

Then, like an arrow released from drawn bow, Raphael rushed to Gabriel and very lightly touched the red mark on his cheek. His face scrunched up and his fingers trembled in the heartbreakingly soft caress. At last, he balled his fist and slammed it against the wall beside him.

“Damn it!” he roared, eyes wild with rage. His fist found the wall repeatedly. “That damn swine! Arrogant bastard! Curse him!”

“Raphael, stop,” Gabriel tugged at his arm and though he was shoved aside, he did not relent. “Stop it, Raphael! You are bleeding. Stop hurting yourself!”

“What do you know?!” Raphael spun from Gabriel’s grip and took a few disoriented steps back. “That pervert wanted to see me in a dress, but I will not wear it. I refuse to wear a dress.  I will never dress like a woman again!”

Mad from wrath, Raphael shot an accusing look at Gabriel.

“And you are no different. You are the same as him, are you not? You gave me a woman’s necklace. You are a pervert too!”

Sadness tore at Gabriel but he endured and said not a word as Raphael continued his rampage. Raphael kicked the table, punched the couch and eventually slumped to the floor and covered his face.

“Why?” he asked, throat raw from all the shouting. “Why are you not angry with me? You were slapped because of me, you _saved_ me and yet I accused you. Someone like me is not worthy of your kindness.”

“Raphael.”

“I caused trouble for you. And I caused trouble for Emilio. What should I do? What should I…?”

“Raphael, look at me.”

Gabriel held on to Raphael’s wrist and slowly pulled them away to reveal his face. He whispered the same thing over and over, until those panicking eyes focused on him. He then put on a warm smile.

“It is all right, Raphael. The slap did not hurt, and it was not your fault.” It was a partial lie. The slap stung so badly tears oozed from his eyes. He had never been slapped, not even by his parents, and it hurt a lot more than he imagined. But it was nothing compared to what Raphael must be feeling. “Everything will be all right. I am here for you.”

His chest tightened and he frowned as moisture gathered in Raphael’s eyes. They became tears, and they slid down his cheeks, one following another.

“I wish Emilio is here,” Raphael lowed his head and confessed. “I am sorry Gabriel.”

Gabriel smiled sadly and pulled Raphael into a hug. “I understand. Of course you would miss him.”

They stayed that way until Raphael calmed down, and while waiting, Gabriel also dabbed the blood away from the wounded knuckles with his sleeve.

“Say, will you tell me why you hate the idea of wearing a dress?” He asked, unable to hold back the curiosity any longer. “If I understand, I might be able to help you more.”

The sobbing had ceased, but Raphael remained hidden in his arms. Gabriel thought the silence meant refusal and wondered if he should drop the topic, until Raphael pulled away from the embrace.

“You are right. If it is you, I feel like I can talk about it. You always make me feel…at ease.”

Gabriel managed a grateful smile, but he knew it went unnoticed. Though Raphael looked straight at him, his eyes were glazed, and his mind had already dived deep into the past.


	11. Chapter 11

When did it begin? Before Raphael knew it, there were no more hugs or kisses on the forehead. Ever since he underwent surgery, he stayed in town with Emilio and they shared the same room. But a few months ago, Emilio began insisting that they slept in separate rooms. Then there were fewer smiles, and the number of times they went out together dwindled. It seemed to Raphael that the taller he grew, the further he drifted apart from Emilio.

On his fifteenth birthday, Emilio had a harpsichord made for him. It was the worst present he had ever received and he wanted to reject it. There was no need for another harpsichord. It was the only time left when he could be close to Emilio – when they played on the same harpsichord during lessons – and yet even this had been taken away from him. Nevertheless, Raphael tried to be appreciative.

“This is wonderful,” he said while tracing his fingers along the harpsichord keys. “Now we can play more complex duets.”

“You are grown up now, so I figured you need more space.”

Raphael nodded in acceptance. Emilio was not wrong, his limbs had grown longer and they had probably become a nuisance. As he lifted his head to look for more expressions, he realised with dread that he would soon grow taller than his teacher. When the time came, would Emilio detest him?

The worry that had plagued him for months threatened to burst, and Raphael bit his bottom lip to hold it in. He tried not to be childish; he knew that many boys his age were already independent men and did not live off their parents. While Raphael earned his own money, he had been relying on Emilio for all sorts of things. This bitterness he felt was surely because he had been overindulged.

“Thank you, Emilio, for always watching out for me.”

His smile did not come out naturally and he was afraid it would be spotted. He did not want Emilio to think of him as an ungrateful spoiled child.

A hand on his cheek pulled Raphael from his thoughts and he automatically pressed against it to savour the warmth. It was magical how just one touch made all the anxiety brewing in him fade away. At least he still had this. It was the only physical contact left, and he sincerely hoped that Emilio would never stop doing it.

“Do not mention it. I am your teacher.”

Raphael looked up when he detected the sombre quality in Emilio’s voice, and he searched those light blue eyes for answers. That was when he saw a strange flicker of something he did not quite recognise; a look that was both forceful and gentle. It made Raphael nervous, but he bravely held the gaze in an attempt to understand it. The thumb on his cheek glided downwards, the suddenness of the movement making him gasp, and in that split second, the intensity of Emilio’s gaze flared to the point that it scared Raphael.

Then it was gone like it never happened before. Emilio removed his hand and turned away.

“I have to attend a friend’s wedding and cannot accompany you today,” Emilio said, back facing Raphael.

“I understand. Please enjoy your day.”

“I will be home late. Do not wait up for me.”

Raphael nodded. Then he was left alone in Emilio’s house with the new harpsichord Emilio gave him. For ten whole years, for as long as he could remember, he had blown the candles on his cake with Emilio by his side. Not only would there be no cake this year, Raphael would not have Emilio with him. He was alone and he had never felt lonelier.

 

+++

 

Time passed with them being busy over their own respective performances. Emilio was a much sought after musician then, and he had to travel to other countries to perform. Raphael was miserable in those weeks. He was tempted to tell Emilio not to go and leave him alone, but he did not. He sang and did his best all the time, because he wanted to do Emilio proud and give his teacher a good reputation. It was the least he could do to repay all that Emilio had done for him.

The offer of the opera role came to him on the same day Emilio returned. It was a large scale performance, and Raphael had been selected to sing as part of the ensemble, along with other castrati like him. It was a great chance for Raphael to gain more exposure, so they eagerly agreed to take it up. Having to wear a dress was a small detail that bothered Raphael the least.

On the day of the performance, Raphael was brought to the dressing room along with the other boys and was made to put on a corset gown. They laughed at one another’s appearance when it was done, for their cheeks looked like ripe apples due to the ridiculous face paint and they resembled clumsy monkeys.

“I am going to look for Emilio,” Raphael declared.

“To seduce him?” One of the boys teased and Raphael laughed in response to that.

“Yes, though I fear his eyes would bleed upon beholding my beauty!”

That comment, accompanied with a playful wink, provoked another wave of stomach-hurting laughter. Raphael left the rowdy room, lifted the front of his skirt and hurried along the corridors in search of his teacher. He had only a few more minutes of free time left and he hoped he could find Emilio in the confusing underground of the large theatre. He bumped into several people and almost tripped as he struggled onwards in the uncomfortable pair of shoes. However, Emilio was nowhere to be found, and Raphael had no choice but to return to the dressing room.

Just then, he knocked head-on against a stranger and the impact was so big he fell.

“Young lady! My apologies!” The man said and extended a hand to Raphael.

“It is all right,” Raphael said as he climbed back to his feet. But he lost his balance as he did so and his legs wobbled. Luckily, the man was quick to react. He caught Raphael by the waist and steadied him. “Thank you.”

“Y-You are most welcome!” came a high-pitched squeak.

What a weird man, Raphael thought. There had been no reason for that man to be so tense. No matter, he needed to get back soon as he was running out of time. He quickly bade farewell and turned, but was stopped when his hand was pulled.

“Wait! P-please, may I know your name, young lady?”

“Good sir, I am a man, and my name is Raphael Armento.”

“A man…?”

His surprise, though comical, was understandable since Raphael both looked and sounded like a girl. Shaking his head in pity for the man he deceived, he dismissed the encounter and rushed back at top speed.

 

+++

 

Emilio was not present when he sang. His eyes searched the audience but did not find the one person he wanted to see. Of course, he could only see the first few rows from the stage, so he kept on hoping that his teacher was somewhere else in the crowd. It was only after that he learned Emilio was caught up in an urgent matter and could not make it for his performance.

It could not be helped, Raphael understood. He sat alone in the dressing room, wiping off the stubborn face paint. Everyone else had gone home, but Raphael waited because Emilio had said in the morning that they would go home together. Swinging his legs, he occupied himself by humming some of his favourite songs and preparing to share about his performance.

At last, there was the long-awaited patter of footsteps. Raphael brightened up in an instant and jumped out of his seat to open the door.

“Emilio!”

The man panted from the run, but Raphael thought he looked dashing. His teacher had planned to come for his performance, he could tell from how well-dressed Emilio was, and knowing this fact made him feel better.

“Sorry, I am too late. My friend’s wife was about to give birth and -”

Raphael raised an eyebrow when his teacher’s sentence was abruptly cut off. Then he remembered he was wearing the dress.

“Hah! I caught you by surprise. Do I not look stunning?” Raphael joked and stuck out a tongue. “I looked even funnier with the face paint. It is too bad you missed it.”

“…I am sorry I missed your performance.”

There was no other reaction, just silence. Raphael lowered his gaze a little sadly. He had hoped, much more than he liked to admit, that Emilio would laugh and joke around with him like old times. But more importantly, Raphael reminded himself with a sharp intake of air, he wanted to talk about his performance.

“I think I did well today,” Raphael said as he led his teacher into the room. “The crowd clapped and cheered after our part, and they also laughed when we fell down as scripted. It was my first time performing a comedy, and it was so much fun!”

“I reckon you pulled off those four difficult passages?”

“Without a hitch!” Raphael replied with gusto and beamed when he saw Emilio smile.

“I am glad for you. Now, get changed and let us be on our way.”

“Oh, about that,” Raphael said, gesturing to the rack at the side. “I was told to leave my dress here. The problem is, I cannot reach the ribbons at the back. Can you help me to undo them?”

His request was met with an uncomfortable pause. It told Raphael that Emilio was reluctant. With the way Emilio kept a distance from him, he guessed that it was logical for the man to refuse. But he was not left with much choice. He stretched his arms and reached as far back as he could to demonstrate his helplessness.

“Sorry, Emilio, I really cannot reach them,” he sighed and dropped his arms. “I could ask the servants at home to help, but I do not want to wear this dress on the streets. It is too embarrassing. Will you help me?”

“…Certainly.”

Without another word, Emilio stepped behind him. Raphael could feel fingers tugging and undoing the ribbons and his body jerked along with the motion. Soon, the top of his dress loosened, and, eager to get out of the restrictive clothing, Raphael pulled down the dress as far as it would go. The neckline got stuck at his shoulders.

“Emilio? Can you loosen the ribbons more? Just take them all off.”

“….Raphael…”

“Hmm?” He turned and tried to look back, but the tugging started again and forced him to look straight ahead. It was strange. Why did Emilio call his name? And why was he taking so long just to remove the ribbons? Deep in his thoughts, he was caught off guard when something slid down his back between his shoulder blades.

A surprised yelp escaped him.

Raphael spun away and only realised then that Emilio had touched his back with his nose. The dress slipped off his shoulders and he hurriedly pulled them up again in defence. A chill assaulted him and it suddenly did not feel right for him to bare his body in front of Emilio, even though they bathed together often in the past.

“What were you doing, Emilio?”

An accident. It had to be an accident, Raphael told himself. But the reply he wanted to hear did not come, and Emilio only looked at him with – now he was able to identify – _desire_ in his eyes.

“Raphael, will you come here?”

“N-No.”

He shivered as he declined. The true meaning behind those gazes, and behind all the times when Emilio avoided him, had just dawned on him, and it was a realisation too heavy for him to cope with.

He had always obeyed his teacher. He trusted Emilio.

“Raphael.”

The deep whisper sounded again, in much more pain this time, and it made Raphael drop his guard. Cold fingers tightened around his arms and pulled with sudden force. Raphael stumbled, tripped on his dress and fell against Emilio’s chest. Many conflicting thoughts flooded him at once as he struggled half-heartedly in the embrace. He knew that this was wrong, yet he had craved for the man’s warmth for so long that it was near impossible to refuse now that he felt it again.

He felt it keenly when Emilio caressed his naked back and he sensed the hot puffs of breath hitting his neck. The heartbeat that thundered in Emilio’s chest was so loud it covered up his own. All the touches, these new sensations, made his stomach flutter. He tried to push himself away, but his hands held no strength.

How could he reject Emilio? What if Emilio got angry with him? Too confused to do anything, Raphael stayed still and clutched the front of Emilio’s coat. Then he felt fingers working into his hair and nudging the back of his head. The soothing massage made his constricted throat relax and as he sighed, small noises leaked.

The pace and intensity of the touches grew and all of a sudden, a hand lifted his chin and forced their eyes to meet. It was for but a second, but Raphael was entranced by the heated gaze. He was unable to react when their lips met.

Their first kiss was a peck, and Raphael had stared at Emilio wide-eyed throughout. The second time lasted a little longer and though Raphael squeezed his eyes shut, he still did not pull away. Then there was the third, fourth and by the fifth time, the kiss had become much more insistent and urgent. Moist lips worked against his own, and Raphael’s mind blanked out when he felt the tip of Emilio’s tongue ghosting past his bottom lip. The action was repeated many times, and it quickened Raphael’s pulse so much that he had to part his mouth to gasp for air.

Emilio’s tongue reached his own in that opening and caused his entire body to tremble. He withdrew immediately, but Emilio’s relentless pursuit coaxed him not to shy away from the sensual touch. Hot tingling spread to his knees and weakened them whenever Emilio rubbed a sensitive spot. He would have fallen over if Emilio was not holding on to him. His limbs felt as numb as his mind and he was completely at the other’s mercy. Emilio licked the insides of his mouth without restraint and Raphael could only let him. But when those lips travelled down his neck, he was overwhelmed by unexplainable anxiety. He had a strong premonition that the precious relationship between them would be broken if he allowed this to continue, and he did not want that. He did not want to lose Emilio ever.

“No!” He struggled and used all his remaining energy to push the man away. “Please stop… I am scared!”

Emilio widened his eyes as if slapped awake. Raphael held on to his dress with hands that could not stop trembling, and he looked fearfully at Emilio.

“I am sorry,” the older man muttered pathetically, backed away until he was at the door, turned and fled.

Raphael gripped his dress so tightly his knuckles turned white. He worked hard to regulate his breathing as he sat on the floor, drained and shaken. Then in the cold and dark room, he became conscious of the ache between his legs, an ache he had never felt before. He had heard about things like erection and masturbation, he just did not think that those would happen to a man who had been castrated.

Reaching down, he lifted his skirt and looked at the bulge that had formed. Directed by curiosity and need, he tapped one finger on it to experiment.

Pleasure rocked over him and his skin flushed with incredible heat. His clouded mind replayed what Emilio did to him earlier, and he could still feel hands searching his back and lips nibbling his neck. A part of him actually wanted Emilio to continue, to touch him more, to kiss and lick him in places he would show no other. As he thought this and imagined, his fingers wrapped around himself and began pumping.

Each stroke heightened the pleasure he felt and he could not stop himself. But each stroke, he soon realised, also became less effective than the previous. His sensitivity dulled as he went on, and it felt like he was feeling himself through thick cloth. He moved faster, trying to find some sort of release from the desperation he was feeling, but it was no use. He wished Emilio was here. He was sure he would feel better if Emilio touched him here.

“Raphael?”

His eyes shot open at the call of the unfamiliar voice, and he quickly retracted his hand. He had been caught, caught doing something so shameful by a stranger. Blood drained from his face and his lips paled.

“What are you doing?” The man wore a smile as he approached, but it did nothing to hide the savage glint in his eyes. “I can help you.”

Raphael scrambled back, but the dress and erection made it difficult to move. Then when that unknown man got close enough, Raphael studied his face and remembered him. It was the man he had bumped into earlier in the day.

“No! Go away!” He yelled, and a palm clasped over his mouth and nose.

“Not so loud, pretty one. Here, it is difficult to do it on your own. I can help. Let me see.”

The man was nowhere as gentle as Emilio. Raphael was shoved on the floor and he screamed as his wrists were painfully pinned above his head. Disgust filled his mind and he kicked, twisted and turned desperately, but his body had already weakened too much by then to put up any resistance. Still, he kept trying and did not stop fighting even when the dress was ripped from him.

 

+++

 

The air was still as they sat on the floor, and all that could be heard was Raphael’s ragged breathing. Sweat coated his forehead and though Gabriel wanted to help wipe them away, wanted to hug him and ease his fears, he held himself back from touching Raphael. The man was deep in his recollection of his trauma, Gabriel was afraid that any touch would provoke him.

“I did not feel any pleasure at all. There was only dread, only horror. I screamed, screamed till I could scream no more and yet he did not let me go. It hurt so much I thought I was going to die. I…I was bleeding and…”

He stopped and threw his face into his hands, unable to continue.

Rage and sorrow boiled in Gabriel as he digested the story. He wanted to rip off every limb of the man who defiled Raphael, and even that would not satisfy. He also hated everyone else involved; the people who made Raphael put on a dress, the composer of the opera and the other castrati who left him alone in the dressing room. Then there was William, and all the men and women who sought Raphael’s company.

But above all, he hated Emilio.

“How could he leave you there after all the immoral things he did to you?”

His whisper sounded dead cold even to himself. He never knew he could feel this much animosity towards another human being, nor that he could ever feel the genuine urge to murder.

“No, Gabriel. Emilio saved me.” Raphael looked up and insisted. “He heard my screams and came back for me. He punched that man and –”

“Why are you defending him?!” Gabriel raised his voice, and though his heart ached to see the alarm in Raphael’s eyes, he could not stop himself. “He took advantage of you! He did not protect you! He is the one to be blamed for your suffering!”

“No, it was not his fault. Was not…” Raphael trailed off uncertainly and he squeezed his eyes shut. “None of it would have happened if I did not wear that dress!”

So that was the way it was. Raphael would rather blame the dress than the man he loved. His devotion to Emilio, his blind obsession, was incomprehensible to Gabriel. Hopelessness drained him and he remained quiet as Raphael went on declaring his affections for his teacher.

“Emilio carried me home that night, tucked me in beg and stayed by my side. He was remorseful. He had this house built for me, hired servants to look after my well-being, and he never touched me that way again.” Raphael stared past the wall as he spoke, unreachable, despite how close they sat. “He never kissed me again. Never did, even though he kissed me so much that night. Why…?”

“I have heard enough.”

Gabriel stood up and did not look at Raphael. Anguish was showing on his face and he hated himself for not being able, and for not being in the position, to comfort Raphael. A part of him did not even want to comfort Raphael, not the Raphael that belonged to Emilio.

Without another word, he stepped away.

“Wait, is that all you have to say?”

“What else do you want me to say?”

That he was heartbroken to hear the tragic tale? That he wished he was there to stop it from happening? That he wanted to tear Emilio to shreds? Or that he wanted to kiss Raphael too? Those were not things he could say aloud.

“You were the one who asked.” The voice that held so much emotion just seconds ago turned mechanical. “I thought you cared, but it was all just information gathering to you.”

Gabriel whipped around, stunned by the awful accusation.

“Well I sure hope you can write a good article now,” Raphael said. “Go on, tell the whole world and let everyone laugh at this castrato who slept with both men and women.”

“You have no idea how I feel!”

Gabriel exclaimed, jabbing a finger at where his heart lay. He glared at Raphael until tears clouded his sight, and still, the other remained untouched. Once again, he learned that there was nothing he could do.

Raising an arm to wipe away tears, Gabriel left to resume the day’s work as the castrato’s substitute butler.


	12. Chapter 12

Gabriel slowly awoke to Raphael’s singing.

His hazy eyes scanned his surroundings. For a moment, he thought he smelled the flowers his mother loved, and touched his bedside table. Then his vision cleared and he found himself still in Raphael’s mansion. White curtains fluttered in the breeze and shimmered in the warm sun rays. The only desk in the room was a short distance away and on it lay two notebooks, his pen and inkpot, as well as remnants of a torn chain. There was something else too that, though small, caught all his attention. In a trance, Gabriel pushed aside his blanket, approached the desk, and laid his eyes upon the once-discarded moonstone pendant.

Through the doors, Raphael’s voice entered. The music that Raphael sang was rich and sorrowful, like a manifestation of the man’s inner world. Gabriel let his hand hover over the pendant as he watched its beautiful sheen. Untainted, even ethereal. Out of reach. He retracted his hand – it never made contact with the precious stone – and he blew a long sigh.

He had been most unusual this entire week, being courageous for things he would not be bothered with if it were the past, and swinging back and forth between depression and elation. There must be something wrong with him for falling so head-over-heels for another man, in such a short span of time. But then again, it was the environment’s fault too. Ever since he came to this country, he felt like he had stepped into something akin to a wonderland in which he was one of the whimsical creatures that danced along to the hypnotizing songs. Raphael’s voice was so sweet, so lethally sweet that it rendered him helpless to the volatile rage of his emotions.

Dressed in loose shirt and pants, he stepped out of the door and traced the source of the voice. He reached the music room, raised his hand to knock, but let it fall away without touching. Instead, he rested his forehead on the door and savoured the melody.

For as long as this would last, he thought with resolve, he would not knock and would not break from the dance. For as long as this would last – ten more days.

After the last note had completely faded away, Gabriel twisted the door knob and entered.

“Good morning, Raphael.”

In front of him, the beautiful tall man turned to regard him, and Gabriel wistfully noted that those eyes held the same hurt as yesterday.

“Good morning, Gabriel.”

The greeting was forced, and Raphael quickly dropped his gaze. The music room contained their silence, the only sound that could be heard was that of wind flipping pages of the libretto that lay on the music stand. Clusters of black dots swarmed the pages, and it pained Gabriel to know that Raphael had been studying them, practising for the opera he never wanted to sing.

“It is not too bad, actually. The songs and the story,” Raphael said as he closed the libretto. “Love, hate, laughter and tears, all encompassed. This is music that touches the soul and speaks of life.”

“But there is no peace inside,” Gabriel argued. “No peace, and thus everything is but a dream.”

“A nightmare, then.”

As Raphael made that conclusion, he returned Gabriel’s gaze and exchanged sorrows. Still, a brave smile found its way to Gabriel’s lips, and he let it bloom to its maximum glow.

“A nightmare that will end. I have three days left after the opera, and I say we take that time to walk on the streets, visit the puppeteer’s shop again and watch a reprise of that same circus. What do you think?”

Raphael furrowed his brows and looked like he was about to cry. Then he dropped his head and quietly said, “I am sorry about yesterday.”

“Do not add myself to the list of your concerns,” Gabriel said and shook his head. “I too, was at fault. It is partly due to my rash actions that you have to resort to this. If I had not -”

“It was not your fault. He would have insisted either ways. I…I am deeper in the wrong, for saying hurtful things.”

Their apologies gave way to silence, and Gabriel relaxed his smile. He remained there a moment longer, savouring the peace, for he knew that Raphael would not chase him out and would not continue the torturous practice if he was still in the room. But time ticked and seconds ran out. Gabriel had no excuse left to stay.

“I will escort you to the rehearsal tonight,” he said as he turned to leave. “And I will escort you home after that.”

“Thank you, Gabriel,” he heard Raphael say, barely audibly, as he was closing the door, “you are most gentle.”

 

+++

 

They stepped through the gate at noon and walked shoulder to shoulder down the main street. Around them, people went about their busy lives, some rushing for work, others enjoying the wonderful weather. It was a cloudless sky, and the colours that surrounded them were saturated and fresh. Their gloomy expressions did not blend in with the atmosphere. As they marched past the residential area, a clock tower peeked from the horizon and Raphael let out a sigh.

“They would not make me wear the dress on a rehearsal, would they?”

“Just kick them with your long legs if they dare try, so that they fly and kiss the moon.”

Raphael laughed, but the effect of the forced humour was short-lived. Gabriel was not smiling either, and his head throbbed every time he put his foot forward on the pavement. Every constricted muscle in his body told him that this was not what he wanted, and blamed him for succumbing to Raphael’s will. Perhaps he should have denied Raphael from leaving his house this day, even if by force. Because even if he did that and Raphael hated him for meddling, it would still be a thousand times better than seeing the man hold anxiety behind a calm façade.

What was he doing? Gabriel looked down at his shoes and felt their incredible heft. He did not want to go, neither did Raphael. So what really was he doing?

On the way, they passed by other smaller theatres and Raphael pointed them out to Gabriel, explaining his previous performances at those venues. Gabriel responded as much as he could, to keep the conversation lively so that it may drown out the hammering in his head. But alas the noise and pain worsened as they got nearer. Both of them were not yet ready when they reached the clock tower which stood beside their destination.

A soft chuckle made Gabriel turn towards Raphael. He did not see any reason for joy.

“I…I need…” Raphael started and briefly covered his face with his hand, all the while wearing a bashful smile. “Will you hold this for a while?”

Before Gabriel could ask what it was that Raphael wanted him to hold, a hand was stretched out, just barely elevated above the hips. Gabriel stared incredulously at the hand and wondered how he had once managed to pull that hand and run in the rain. Raphael’s palm was small and his fingers were long and slender. Every tremble was obvious.

Could he, could someone as insignificant as he, be able to stop that hand from trembling?

His hesitation made Raphael retract the hand, and the chuckle started again.

“Ignore me. This is laughable. A grown man standing before the theatre and not daring to enter, like a boy on his first day of school, afraid to leave his mother’s embrace.”

The incessant throbbing in his head intensified at an alarming rate, and his heart shattered to a million pieces when he saw the vulnerable man force himself to take a step forward. Then, purely by instinct, he reached out and grabbed Raphael’s hand.

_“You said you want to be someone he can rely on. I ask that you please do so. Find a solution for him if you can, or take him and run away.”_

Emilio’s voice rang in his mind and though he hated the idea of following that man’s advice, he was captivated by the suggestion. He would do what Emilio could not. In that instant, the noise and hurt stopped, and Gabriel was able to look at Raphael with clear, guiltless eyes.

“Let us run away,” he stated plainly and without waiting for a response, ran.

He dragged Raphael along in the run, back the road from whence they came. He could hear Raphael shouting questions from behind and feel the hand struggling in his firm hold. But he ignored everything and ran as fast as he could, as fast as they ran when the rain pelted on them two days ago. Slowly, the struggling stopped, questions weakened into gasps for air, and with an abrupt turn, they left the district and searched for somewhere more quiet.

Gabriel chose the narrowest street in every junction and struggled down dirty back alleys of where the lower class lived. Offended residents glared at them and hurled expletives, especially when they accidentally stepped on laundry and knocked over boxes of fruits. Oranges and large ripe apples rolled on the ground and both of them had to hop to avoid stepping on any. And the moment they cleared that obstacle, they were met with a man on bicycle, carrying long wooden poles on his shoulder. He screamed at them for blocking the way, the tyres screeched for that same reason, and Gabriel and Raphael had to let go of each other to flatten themselves against the wall and avoid collision.

The threat zoomed by and left only a trail of curses. Panting hard, the two of them looked at each other, hardly believing what they had done. Then the confusion, fear and rush of adrenaline melted away and there was only mirth in their eyes. They knew not who started, but soon loud laughter burst forth and they crumbled simultaneously on the ground.

“Why did you…?” Raphael asked, brushing a tear from a corner of his eyes.

“You said, school boy,” Gabriel replied between gasps. “And I thought, boys could skip school and run out to play.”

“You delinquent.” A finger pointed at Gabriel. “You are insane!”

Gabriel laughed harder and he thought, yes, this was much better. This was the right choice. He really rather be insane.

On all fours, he crawled over and in spontaneous mischief, rubbed his dirty hands on the sleeves of Raphael’s fine coat.

“Hey!”

“You must not go to a rehearsal looking like a beggar,” Gabriel scolded mockingly. “It reflects poorly on your upbringing.”

“Are you trying to be my mom? And I must remind that you were the one who made me this dishevelled to begin with.”

They helped each other to their feet and dusted off the dirt on their trousers. A few more deep breaths calmed their beating heart and the severity of their actions slowly dawned on them. But they locked eyes and shared strength.

“That pervert wants you to be there as much as you do not want to go, all is fair.”

“You are right. My voice is my own, and I owe William nothing.”

Raphael grinned with renewed courage, and it made Gabriel want to hug the man and kiss him hard on the cheek. But he was aware that by then, curious peasants had gathered around them. They were not welcomed here.

“Let us go somewhere else.”

“Where? I live in this town and yet I find myself completely lost.”

“Then let us continue to be lost, but elsewhere.”

His suggestion was met with an enthusiastic nod, and they held hands once more while walking briskly away. The grey walls were dull and the sun did not shine well into this cluttered area, but it did not matter. They were already in their own wonderland, and neither of them had any intention to exit.


	13. Chapter 13

“You know, you have never asked about me.”

Gabriel spoke while scattering bread crumbs to feed pigeons. Beside him, Raphael sat on the same bench and gave him a quizzical look.

“Where did that come from?”

“Are you not curious about my country? Or my occupation, family and friends?”

Raphael tapped his chin, and after looking like he attained enlightenment, he turned to Gabriel apologetically.

“My visitors always talked about themselves without my asking. I guess I am not skilled in asking questions.”

“I guess I have no choice but to talk about myself shamelessly without your prompts.” Gabriel shook his head and sighed. “Though it would be nice if you had asked even a simple question like, ‘is your country beautiful?’”

“Is your country beautiful?” Raphael asked in a hurry. It made Gabriel laugh, seeing how the usually prideful man became flustered. It was just a harmless tease, of course, his laughter was not meant to mock. It was just an expression of the happiness he had been feeling for the past few hours.

They did nothing the entire day.

They walked everywhere while holding hands, rested by the roadside when they became exhausted, and simply continued walking. They passed countless shops but did not enter any, not even paused to look in through the shops’ windows. Only once, when Raphael felt terribly thirsty, did they stop for a drink. Gabriel had held Raphael’s hand even as they sat at the table, and he gave a squeeze whenever trouble threatened to take hold over Raphael’s facial features. The man never admitted it, but Gabriel knew, and shared, the anxiety. Minutes passed and they were on the move again. Gabriel termed it ‘part two of the day’s adventure’ and Raphael had laughed in response, but they both knew they roamed about this earnestly because they were afraid to get caught.

Now they were sitting on a bench at a park, and more pigeons had flooded over upon knowing that food was available. The packet of breadcrumbs was soon attacked by the mob and snatched from his grasp, and Raphael chortled as Gabriel swept his hair to get rid of the stray crumbs. And though children were playing and screaming in the background, all Gabriel could hear was Raphael’s free laughter. The happiness he felt inside swelled along with his affections for the man.

So they sat there and Gabriel told him about his life. He shared how he grew up fighting over petty things with his sister, how his mother read to them at night, and how his father brought the entire family out whenever he did not have to work. Gabriel’s school life was ordinary with its fair share of joys and woes, and thereafter, it was the same when he went to work. He wrote articles about gossips, and since they sold well, the company he worked in had recently promoted him. Gabriel paused and taking the hint, Raphael clapped.

“I am happy for you.”

It was as he thought, Raphael had been deprived of genuine interaction with other people and needed some helping along. Gabriel had observed Raphael for a long time, so he had suspected this since the beginning, despite how the singer was able to entertain his guests. But it would not do, Raphael would not be able to thrive in his world if he did not attain some real social skills beyond pretence. That was why he had taken it upon himself to teach Raphael.

“At this point, you may express your thoughts on what I have shared so far.”

“Oh! Um,” Raphael trailed off and looked down in shame. “I think you are very fortunate to have a warm family. They sound like wonderful people.”

Gabriel frowned. He had not intended to boast in front of a man whose parents sent him for castration.

“I am not as fortunate. You have heard about and seen my parents. The only warmth I ever received had been from…”

Raphael stopped himself from saying the name Gabriel dreaded to hear, and for that, the latter was grateful. Still, their smiles waned along with the setting sun, and their shadows lengthened beneath them. The lighting made Raphael’s hair look redder than usual, and Gabriel reached out to tuck a stray strand behind Raphael’s ear.

“I would give you a family if I could,” he heard himself say, felt warmth creeping up his neck, and hurriedly corrected himself. “I mean I would give you _my_ family…wait, that sounds wrong too.”

“Hah! You sound like you are proposing to me.”

Gabriel buried his face in his forearm. He could not tell Raphael that the notion appealed to him, for if Raphael was a woman, he would have married him. But that would surely enrage the man, seeing as how he hated being treated like a woman. He stayed that way for a while and only looked up when there was a semblance of calm in him.

And that calm was blasted away by a kiss on his cheek.

Raphael’s lips pressed against his skin and left behind a hot, tingling imprint. Gabriel covered his cheek and stared at Raphael. His heart reacted before his brain could, and it was already bursting by the time he realised what just happened.

“I like you very much, Gabriel,” Raphael said while grinning and his eyes shone with innocent fondness.

It was suddenly too much for Gabriel to endure. He leaned over, grabbed Raphael’s shoulders and looked into his eyes, seeking permission. He saw surprise and confusion, and though there was no hint of consent, he could not stop himself. This man, this clueless man, had no idea how alluring he was, and Gabriel was tempted beyond belief to show him. The gap between their lips was infuriatingly large. With an abrupt jerk, Gabriel pulled the taller man downwards.

“No!”

Hands shoved against his chest, hard. He stumbled backwards from the impact and almost fell to the ground, but he steadied himself in time. Then he was face to face with an expression he never wanted to see. Fear.

“I am sorry!” Gabriel apologised and bowed. His eyes darted about in panic before they were squeezed shut, as he knew that no apology would be able to undo the damage. What he had done must have triggered Raphael’s unpleasant memories, and it was such an inconsiderate thing to do despite knowing the man’s past. He could not forgive himself. He was no different from the pervert who violated Raphael and no different from Emilio.

“Gabriel.”

He heard Raphael’s whisper but was too ashamed and scared to lift his head. The mistake he made was huge and he feared that there was no return. He had tried so hard the entire day to make Raphael happy, and it was all about to crumble because of his stupidity. Again, just like that night at the circus.

“Gabriel, I will prefer it if you kiss my cheek.”

There was a moment of stunned silence. Gabriel had looked up before he realised, and he watched as Raphael fidgeted with the ends of his long fringe. He gulped and asked, “Are you sure?”

It was too good to be true. Raphael nodded, he actually nodded! How adorable he looked with those cheeks glowing from more than the waning sunlight. How tempting it was for Gabriel to just push down the man, ravish him and tell him over and over again how strongly he felt towards him. But he banished that thought with willpower. He inched forward slowly and lingered near Raphael’s jaw before reaching up to leave a careful kiss.

Then they both blushed madly.

Gabriel jumped to his feet, pointed to the sky and sounded like an idiot. “It is getting late! Shall we head home?”

“I do not want to go home,” Raphael hesitated, and he seemed to have already recovered from his embarrassment. “The rehearsal has just ended. They might find me.”

“Then let us go to a church. No one will raise trouble there.”

“Good idea. I know of one that is still open.” Raphael got to his feet and extended his hand. “Shall we?”

“Before that,” Gabriel paused, let his fingers entwine with Raphael’s, and dared to ask. “Can I kiss your cheek again?”

 

+++

 

Going to the church was both a great and horrible idea. The good part was that Raphael could enjoy peace, while the bad part was that Gabriel had to hold back from kissing Raphael’s cheeks. It was terrifying how irresistible the sensation was. Gabriel found himself addicted, and he had probably kissed Raphael’s cheeks more than ten times during their walk from the park to the church.

He stared ahead of him at the holy altar and prayed for God to forgive his sins.

“That priest over there.”

Raphael’s voice shook him from his thoughts, and he took a deep breath to focus on what the man was saying.

“He is the same as me. We were castrated at about the same time, and I have sung with him a couple of times in my youth.” Raphael explained. “But he was never able to go beyond singing in a choir, and with not many other options left, since almost no one would hire a castrated man, he decided to enter priesthood.”

“Do you think he enjoys his current life?” Gabriel asked.

“Who knows? Though if I am one day robbed of opportunity to sing, I will surely despair.”

Raphael gave Gabriel a weak smile, and their hands, still secretly joined, tightened their hold.

“That will not happen to you. Your passion in singing, if not your talent, will definitely tide you through.” It was not easy, but it was time to confront the problem they ran away from and make plans for the future. “We will hide it out and after the opera, face the consequences of your absence. That wicked bastard might make life difficult for you, but I doubt your fans would stand it if all your concerts were cancelled. You will still be able to sing, and that dumb swine will not be able to do anything about it.”

An elderly priest walked by and gave a look to remind them of the need to watch their language. Gabriel lowered his head in apology, and Raphael chuckled.

“Thank you, Gabriel. You are always so encouraging.”

They sat in the healing silence of the church until it was about to close. By then, the streets had turned very dark and the only illumination came from the lamps that people held. Raphael shuffled closer, and their sides often touched as they walked.

“If there comes a day when fame is robbed from me, will you still be there to hear me sing?”

“Do you really need to ask?” Gabriel heaved an exaggerated sigh and earned a quiet laugh. “Yes I will be there, a thousand times over, and I will always be there among the audience despite its size.”

Raphael said nothing, only smiled.

They carried on walking, until Raphael stopped him and asked another question.

“Will you still come to this country after your assignment?”

“Of course I will, as many times as I can afford. If not, how am I going to attend your concerts?”

“Hah! You are right. I will pay for your travels and make sure you get to sit in the first row for all my concerts.” The delighted man proclaimed, and he took up Gabriel’s hand and kissed it. “I like having you around. You give me strength.”

“I am honoured,” Gabriel said jokingly and returned the kiss on Raphael’s cheek. “But I prefer if you do not pay for my travels. I am not after your money.”

“Oh, I did not mean that. I know you are not –”

The way Raphael’s words fell away was ominously familiar.

Gabriel followed Raphael’s fixed unmoving gaze, and he saw what the man was looking at.

Ahead of them, two buildings away, a lady walked arm in arm with a gentleman who carried a lamp. They stopped at the gate, and oblivious to their surroundings, the lady gave a passionate hug. The lamp waved as the man shifted his grasp, and in a stray flicker of light, both Gabriel and Raphael could see clearly as the lady tip-toed to kiss the man on his lips.

On Emilio’s lips.

Gabriel instinctively tightened his hold on Raphael’s hand, but the squeeze was not returned this time. Raphael’s fingers were limp, and when the lady disappeared into the building, they slipped away from the hold.

Wait, he wanted to say, but nothing came out. He held his breath and watched Raphael cross the dark path to stand before Emilio.

“My apologies for disturbing your wonderful evening,” Raphael ground out in bitter sarcasm. “Are you sure you do not wish to step through the gate along with her?”

“Raphael,” Emilio muttered, surprised. “Why are you - ?”

“While I am here struggling to escape the role you forced on me, you were off making merry with women.”

“It is not what you think –”

“Is it not?!” Raphael flared and the shout turned the heads of all who passed by. But the man was too caught up by all the hurt he had been suppressing to notice. “If it is not, then kiss me!”

“Raphael!” Emilio hushed, a rare look of panic crossing his features, but Raphael did not care.

“Right now!” he repeated and pointed at his own lips. “Right here!”

“Stop it –”

“Oh but you will not! You will not kiss me,” Raphael paused and then yelled with all his pent up anguish, “Because I am not a woman!”

The yell broke midway and allowed a gush of tears. Whispers rose around the commotion, and Gabriel could only watch helplessly. He did not stand in the lamp light like the two of them, he was merely among the dark crowd. No matter how much he wanted to snatch Raphael away from all the hurt, his legs would not move.

He watched as Emilio reached out to touch Raphael’s cheek.

And he watched as Raphael slapped that hand away.

Then without another word, the taller man ran.

The sight of Raphael’s back disappearing into the darkness finally snapped Gabriel from his trance, and he was reminded of all the hatred he felt towards Emilio.  
It was for Emilio’s sake that Raphael even contemplated going for the rehearsal, and yet, this man…!

Gripped by pure rage, Gabriel took large strides towards Emilio and caught hold of his collar. He raised a fist, ready to beat the sense out of this heartless man, but he wavered. He gasped, tightened his fist and tried once more, but he could not. He could not punch Emilio, not when that man wore such a resigned look on his face.

Gabriel dropped his fist, released his grip, and straightened himself.

“Do not appear before him again,” he said as calmly as he could, before tearing away and chasing after Raphael.

 

+++

He found Raphael in the hall of his mansion, standing alone right in the middle. His form was stoic, and shoulders squared, and he looked like a different person from the crying man earlier. He rotated to face Gabriel as he entered, and he wore a smile.

“Ah, there you are. I need your help,” he spoke in a pleasant tone. “Stefano is asleep. Will you tell him on my behalf that I will be back at daybreak? I am going out now.”

“Where are you going?”

“To Lady Gloria,” Raphael stated simply before brushing past Gabriel, but he was stopped by an arm held out.

“Why are you going to her at this hour?”

“Oh Gabriel, you truly are a gem,” Raphael laughed, and it had been a long time since Gabriel detested the sound of it. “Are you really this naïve? What do you think happens between a man and a woman when the sun goes down? Play peek-a-boo?”

“Do not give me your sarcasm,” Gabriel warned, growing intolerant. “I am asking why you find the need to sleep with her.”

“I understand, it does not make sense, does it? That a castrated man would feel the urge. And you are right, Gabriel. I do not feel anything. I just want a warm body to snuggle with. Now, is that reason good enough to allow the master to leave his own house?”

“If you are only looking for comfort -” Gabriel began, but was rudely interrupted by an outburst.

“Emilio could do it! He could kiss another, so why can I not do the same?! Why can I never…never bring myself to kiss anyone other than him…?”

Sobs wrecked Raphael and he tried to dry his tears. But his efforts were not enough. The tears did not stop and his shoulders shook violently. Soon, his body lost strength and his tall frame reduced to a hunched figure on the floor.

Gabriel squatted down and busied himself with combing Raphael’s messy hair with his fingers. Then he gently held Raphael’s face and urged him to look up.

“If you are only looking for comfort,” Gabriel repeated and this time, continued. “Then I think I qualify.”

Raphael’s eyes enlarged, then he glanced away, ashamed. “No, I must not use you.”

“I do not mind, Raphael,” Gabriel said, and removed his cravat with one tug to show he meant his words. “I want to comfort you.”

Without asking for permission, he kissed Raphael’s cheek once more, but this time added more force. He felt Raphael tremble in his half embrace, and he let his kiss linger. It contained little of the sweetness earlier, drowned out by the sadness they shared. When at last Gabriel pulled away to await Raphael’s response, the taller man leaned over and pressed his face against his shoulder.

“Your bedroom, or mine?” Gabriel asked with eyes closed. He heard the gasps, heard the man struggling in his inner turmoil, and wrapped his arms around Raphael more tightly than ever. His lips curled in a wistful smile when he heard Raphael’s reply.

“Yours,” the voice, tiny and weak, answered. “Yours, Gabriel.”


	14. Chapter 14

He did not know what to do.

Raphael clung onto him once they sat on the bed, and no amount of coaxing would make that man raise his head. In the darkness, fought by a lone burning candle, they sat and listened to the wind howl against the window panes. He had whispered Raphael’s name repeatedly but the other did not react. Gabriel let his palm go up and down on Raphael’s back, hoping that it would soothe him, and it was pathetic how little response it brought. An occasional shuddery sigh, and he would bury himself in Gabriel’s embrace again.

How would they go about the business of comforting each other, if all they did was sit like stones?

Then again, Gabriel was not sure what he expected. Perhaps Raphael really just wanted to stay close to another human being, a ‘warm body’, and was content with doing nothing. Perhaps Gabriel had been the idiot to let his hopes run high. He knew Raphael was more versed in bedroom matters and he wondered if he should lie down and just accept whatever the other man wanted to do to him. But now, as it turned out, Gabriel had no choice but to take the initiative.

He pushed aside his doubts, ignored the voice within blaming him for taking advantage of the situation, and pulled Raphael away until they sat an arm’s length apart.

“We can hug through the whole night if you like, but only if you are certain that is all you need.”

Raphael avoided his gaze. He looked downwards and sideways in an anxious manner, like he was searching for something. And he remained silent. He gave no reply.

Getting tired and impatient, Gabriel took a breath and asked once more, this time more directly.

“Do you want to sleep with me or not?”

Raphael gasped, probably surprised by how straight forward he was being. Then for some unknown reason he chuckled. Not the sarcastic bitter laughter, this was more genuine and purely out of amusement.

“I honestly did not see this coming when I asked you to stay here with me,” Raphael admitted, his tone tinged with some sadness.

“Me neither. In fact I detested you at the beginning.”

“That is harsh, though I guessed. I could tell from the way you knit your eyebrows.”

Gabriel touched his forehead a little self-consciously and then sighed. What was the point of talking about this now? They were getting further away from the original topic and Gabriel was not sure if he had enough steam left in him to steer them back on course. A thought crossed his mind that maybe he should just give up and sleep on the floor, but in that exact moment, Raphael spoke up and made him change his mind.

“And yet you slowly grew fond of me, and I of you,” Raphael sneaked him a glance and gave a brief smile. “Gabriel, I have never met someone like you, and I consider it a blessing. You are different from the rest and I do not know what to do.”

Gabriel reached out and let his hand cover Raphael’s which clutched the bedsheet. He sensed a slight jolt but paid it no mind because he was occupied by the implications of Raphael’s words. This man, who lived in an entirely different world, who was above him in all aspects and whom thousands idolised, claimed that he was different, special. But what touched Gabriel the most was that Raphael, despite feeling hurt and needing comfort, hesitated because he cherished their relationship.

The adoration he held for the man overflowed and it leaked when he ran his thumb over Raphael’s wrist. He heard a gasp, and encouraged by it, he slipped his finger underneath the cuffs and slid as far up along Raphael’s forearm as he could, pushing fabric along the way. All this time, he watched the other carefully and was prepared to stop if he detected any fear or disgust on Raphael’s face.

“Wa-wait,” The tentative protest sounded when Gabriel slipped both his hands in Raphael’s sleeves. “Let me take off my coat.”

Raphael rose to his full height and turned his back. The coat was unfastened and Gabriel’s eyes trailed its slow movement down Raphael’s shoulders, until it was completely taken off. It was placed on the hanger right by the wardrobe with care, and fingers tugged at the edges to keep it straight. Yet even after all that delaying, Raphael still did not return to the bed.

“Just your coat?” Gabriel prompted, and felt amused when Raphael jumped. He had gotten up from the bed and was standing just a step behind the other, so close their chests would have touched if Raphael was facing this way. “A pity, though it does not deter me.”

He reached out and wound his arms around Raphael’s waist.

“Wait, Gabriel.”

The protest was even weaker than the previous and was not convincing, especially when accompanied by gasps every time there was the slightest movement. Gabriel remembered how Raphael innocently revealed his abdomen when they were collecting berries, and he felt an urge to tease. He let his hand wander above the thin shirt in a light brushing motion, and when Raphael could no longer suppress a shudder, he dipped into his navel.

“W-wait.”

“Why? Do you dislike this?” Gabriel asked, and he had to breathe deeply to remain calm. Raphael shied away from each touch and gave only a vague struggle when he repeated the action.

“I do not…!” The soft cry escaped when his shirt was lifted and Raphael clamped his hands over those that roamed up his torso. However, Gabriel had other ideas. His face was level with Raphael’s shoulder blades, so he shifted to kiss that convenient spot. It delighted him when he sensed a tremor, and he used that opening to free his hands and continue to explore.

Raphael twisted to escape, but he was not fast enough to avoid the fingers that crept up his sides to rest on his chest. He bit back a moan when he felt a digit nudge his nipple.

“Does this feel good?” Gabriel asked. He was trying his best to give the other pleasure and since he had no experience at all, not even with women, he could only act based on his guesses. He was relieved when Raphael’s breaths became more laboured and urgent. A flick of his finger sent the taller man arching backwards, and the last shred of voice control broke when he pinched the nipple and gave it a twist.

Raphael whined and struggled in another attempt to escape from the sweet torture. Gabriel’s pursuit was however, relentless. He dragged one hand across Raphael’s chest, deliberately slowly, and when he heard the confused plea – for him to stop or continue? – he attacked the other nipple. He played with both at the same time, and pressed himself close against Raphael’s back to better sense every delicious jolt. The intoxicating moans and rapid heartbeats made it hard for Gabriel to keep his composure. He wanted to drive Raphael closer to the brink, make him moan louder, make him unable to think of anything else.

“Gabriel, let me turn around.”

The request cooled some of the heat that burned his head, and Gabriel complied, taking a step backwards and withdrawing his hands from under the shirt. Raphael turned around and his expression was a delicious mix of passion and agony.  Under the dim candlelight, he looked alluring.

“I have always thought you are beautiful.” Gabriel sighed and let his eyes trail downwards to the two little mounds that had formed; pert nipples that showed through the fabric, all because of him. Then without warning, he bent slightly and enclosed his lips around one of it. The reaction he earned was dizzying. Raphael cried out and hunched over, burying both hands into Gabriel’s hair. He sucked it a few times through fabric at first, then raised the hem up to collar and ran his tongue along the underside of the nipple. Every twitch he sensed pushed him on and he switched to the other side, this time adding a gentle nib. The shudder that followed lasted more seconds and as if it took all of Raphael’s strength, the tall man leaned heavily on Gabriel. A little too heavily.

They fell on the floor with Raphael pining him underneath and apologising profusely.

“I am sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“No, I am all right. How about you?”

“I cannot say the same…my legs…” Raphael glanced at the floor and broke into a nervous laugh. “Hardly anyone has ever done this to me. I have always taken the lead.”

“Would you like to?” Gabriel asked, smiling fondly at the endearing man. “I do not mind, as long as you enjoy.”

“No. I prefer this.” Melancholy returned to the man as he rested his forehead on Gabriel’s chest. His body was tense and his breathing shallow. He swallowed before whispering, “I am but one of the many instruments he plays.” Anguish wrapped around every word and Raphael fisted his shirt. “Help me, Gabriel. Make my mind blank, make me forget about him.”

Gabriel did not need to be told twice. With a forceful grip and abrupt twist, he flipped their position and straddled the other.

“Think only of me.”

He removed and threw his own coat aside, and his fingers fumbled to unravel the thin strip of scarf still wrapped around Raphael’s neck. When at last the pale neck was exposed, Gabriel leaned in to savour how warm and soft it was. He looked at the front of his neck where the Adam’s apple should have been and planted a kiss on the smooth skin. It eventually grew needy and soon Gabriel was kissing the sides as well, even landing a harmless bite from time to time. Then he craned upwards to trace a line with the tip of his tongue from cheek to ear, and though he knew it was silly, he felt triumphant that Raphael’s cheeks now belonged to him. He would never let Emilio touch them again.

“Gabriel, do not just kiss my cheeks,” Raphael complained as he writhed. “What you did earlier…go lower…”

As if all these new sensations were not already enough to drive him crazy. Gabriel trembled from desire and did as he was told. He teased Raphael’s nipples again with tongue and teeth while his hand wandered elsewhere. Across the ends of his ribcage, up the side, and then down to the top of the trousers he wore. He pressed on it at the same time he sucked the nipple, and Raphael arched his body upwards.

“Beautiful,” Gabriel mumbled subconsciously before proceeding to undo the front. His hand was stopped however and he looked at Raphael for a reason.

“I am not beautiful here,” he whispered with eyes hazy from all the pleasure. But there was also insecurity and doubt, and Gabriel understood what Raphael was talking about. He gently brushed away the hand that stopped him and continued with his work until he freed the bump that had strained against the fabric.

It was an obvious scar, right below the empty sacs where testacles once lay.  The unforgiving dark line ran horizontally across, marring the delicate pale skin and tearing at Gabriel’s heart. He traced that line with a finger and hesitated when he sensed Raphael’s fear, but in the end he still chose to obey what his heart wanted. He kissed the scar.

“Stop, I, ah…! You must find it…repulsive.”

“Not to me,” Gabriel answered and blew lightly at the scar before kissing it again. “You are beautiful.”

Raphael tried again to protest but his eyes shot open when Gabriel gripped his erect member. Liquid spilled over as he pulled down the foreskin and Raphael’s smell, which he found oddly alluring, assaulted him. He licked the scar in tandem with his pumps, until all of Raphael’s resistance melted away. The moans were louder now and they filled the room together with the wet sounds, but Gabriel thought it was not enough. He wanted to give even more pleasure, heighten it, and watch as Raphael released in unbearable ecstasy.

But though he gripped tighter and pumped faster, the orgasm did not happen. Sweat coated Gabriel’s forehead as he continued and Raphael’s moans escalated into helpless whines. Raphael was clearly enjoying this, and he thrust upwards a few times as if he was about to come, but nothing happened. In fact, after some time, Gabriel noticed that Raphael had turned a little soft.

“I am sorry,” Gabriel stopped and apologised, “Was it not good?”

Tears glistened at the corners of Raphael’s shut eyes as the man fought to catch his breath.

“That is not it. Gabriel, you were great, but I cannot…I always take a long time, no matter how much I feel it. Sometimes I stop feeling it altogether.”

“That sounds painful.”

Gabriel frowned as the other nodded, then he crawled upwards to cradle Raphael’s head. It hurt to know that the rumoured castrato’s ‘sexual prowess’ stemmed from such a sad reason. The longest he had recorded was three hours, when Raphael slept with a lady, and in those three long hours, Raphael had been suffering.

He threaded his fingers lightly into the strands of silky straight hair. His chest ached so much he felt suffocated.

“Relax, Raphael. I am here for you. I will help you.”

He pressed his lips on Raphael’s forehead and whispered soothing words until tension left those shoulders. Then he started from the beginning, patiently touching wherever Raphael felt pleasure earlier, and trailing kisses all over his body. It was not easy to hold back as he had been on the verge of bursting for a while, but Raphael was more important. He was doing this for Raphael, not for himself.

Then an idea struck him and he led Raphael back to his bed. The softness of the mattress might make him feel more comforted, he had thought, and a fond smile spread his lips when he saw Raphael sigh blissfully upon hitting the sheets.

“Are you tired? We can stop anytime you wish.”

“When you are this aroused? Are you sure?” Raphael teased and Gabriel jumped when a hand brushed his groin.

“D-Do not provoke me,” the warning came with a small chuckle, and he swatted the mischievous hand away when it tried to do the same thing.

“I think it will make me feel better if you are feeling good too.”

“No I do not think it is a good idea. I will reach orgasm faster than you because this is my first -”

Gabriel clamped his big mouth shut and avoided the incredulous look Raphael was shooting him. Blood rushed to his ears and he raised a hand to hide the blush.

“I am honoured!” Raphael exclaimed, a little too loudly considering how deep into the night they were. “My apologies I did not know earlier that this was monumental.”

“It is not!” Gabriel argued and gulped when Raphael sat up and pushed him back. “Wh-What are you doing?”

“I will make you feel good.”

With that, the experienced man deftly undid his trousers and slid his hand in to pull out the erection. Gabriel gasped when he felt the cold fingers close around him and almost yelped when they pulled down his foreskin suddenly. Then he watched as Raphael leaned down in slow motion and, with those lips from which wonderful music flowed, kissed the tip of his cock.

“Ah, Ra-Raphael. Wait –”

His voice was cut off when Raphael slurped, from the base to the head, and before he could even relish the sensation, those lips closed around the tip and made small sucking noises.

“No, I cannot, ah! This is too…”

‘Much’, he wanted to say, but the rest of his sentence was eaten up by a gasp when Raphael swallowed him.

The constriction came suddenly, too quickly for Gabriel to hold back, and he buckled as waves of pleasure washed over him. His come shot right into Raphael’s throat and a few smaller jets followed as he twitched and jerked in the aftershock. Incredible warmth enveloped his entire body as it ended, and he collapsed weakly on the bed.

“I want to curl up and die,” Gabriel groaned and held his head. So much for proclaiming to help, he ended up becoming the receiving end and even made Raphael swallow his ejection. It had nothing to do with his lack of experience, he consoled himself, that man was just too skilled. He did not dare to ask how many men he had performed this service for.

“Was it good?” Raphael asked, eyes turning into slits from the grin he was wearing. “So good you want to die?”

“It was good but I beg you, please do not do this for any other.”

The plea sounded more possessive than he liked, but it seemed to have no effect on Raphael. The taller man only tilted his head and asked why.

“You have to love yourself more!” he clarified. “Only do this sort of things with people you…have feelings for.”

Raphael took in his words without much of a reaction, and Gabriel wondered if that man understood what he had just said. It took a long time before Raphael nodded.

“You are right, I think, though no one has ever told me that.”

It was common sense! But then again, the castrato’s life had been anything but common.

“Just stop doing that to those people who visit you. Will you promise me?”

“I promise,” Raphael agreed without missing a beat. “I like it better too, because I am doing it for you.”

The frank declaration reignited the flames that he had thought cooled, and Gabriel’s heart thumped as his hands moved on their own to push Raphael down.

“My turn.”

He pulled away the trousers that still clung to those long legs and positioned himself low. Then before there was any time for second thoughts, he closed his eyes and used his mouth.

“You do not have to…ah!”

A determined suck sliced the protest and Gabriel could not help smiling when he noticed that Raphael had become hard again. He was already half-hard when he started, which meant he had gotten aroused when he was pleasuring Gabriel. Likely, his arousal was induced by psychological stimulation over physical touch. Understanding this made Gabriel rethink his actions. There was no way he could be as skilled as Raphael in one night, and if he carried on his clumsy movements, he might become soft again.

He had to do more than just touch his sexual organ. He had to love Raphael in more ways.

“Gabriel?” The tentative question leaked as Gabriel’s lips travelled down his legs.

“Lie still,” he cooed, trailing kisses along the inner thigh and drawing delightful gasps. “Be patient.”

He alternated the soft feathery kisses with passionate licking, and he attacked everywhere, knees, hips, once even down to the sole of his feet, but not where Raphael wanted most.

“Stop… I… ah..!”

The weak plea sounded so tearful Gabriel almost stopped. But he reminded himself what he was aiming for, and for that, he had to observe Raphael’s every reaction. Since his mind was clearer now, he tried to memorise all the sensitive spots he found. He stared at Raphael’s member as he worked, waited for it to become harder, before suddenly engulfing it in one motion.

The cry that resounded was worth all his efforts. Raphael gripped the sheets beneath him, his toes curled and his body contorted in the supreme pleasure. But that strong feeling swiftly left as Gabriel resumed kissing other parts of his body. Raphael trembled and tried not to complain, but when Gabriel swallowed it a second time, he was overcome by impatience.

“More… I want –”

“It will feel better if you wait,” he hushed. “I want to tease you more.”

Raphael threw his head from side to side as Gabriel sucked on the tender skin nearby before licking away a drop of liquid that oozed from the slit. Moans escaped the man, and his words became more fragmented. “Lick there”, “suck harder” and “take it in” were but only a few of the instructions, and though they were explicit, not all of them were complied.

Gabriel swallowed to keep his cool, but he could feel the ache returning between his legs as Raphael thrashed, begged and whined. Then Gabriel shifted to explore his upper body again, denying Raphael of the release that he so craved. He revisited the neglected nipples, nibbled his collarbone and kissed his cheek.

“I love you,” he whispered and felt a tremor course through Raphael’s body. It was more intense than any he had witnessed, and he took it as a sign. Using one hand to support his body, he reached down with the other and nudged the erection against his own.

At last, Raphael became too impassioned for words. He rested his palm on Gabriel’s back and they rubbed against each other while sharing body heat. Their hearts thundered as one and neither could deny the affections and desire from rising to the boiling point. Gabriel rubbed and squeezed them together and when he got tired, Raphael took over. After a few more thrusts and pumps, when neither knew whose hand was moving anymore, Raphael threw his head back and came. The ecstatic moan tipped Gabriel over and he soon followed suit, letting his come spill all over Raphael’s stomach.

Worn out, Gabriel crashed and rested his head on Raphael’s shoulder. He peeked at the other man through half-lidded eyes and felt an incredible surge of joy when he saw a contented smile on Raphael’s face. They looked at each other then, and Raphael pressed a kiss on Gabriel’s forehead.

“Thank you for comforting me,” he said, though they both knew that this was beyond comforting each other. They had shared something impossibly precious that night, and it made both of them feel warm and fuzzy inside. Purely out of love, Gabriel rose slightly and approached Raphael’s lips. He was not that surprised when the taller man avoided the kiss though, and he shook his head before Raphael could apologise.

“I will wait, Raphael, until you are ready,” he whispered, getting too comfortable and satisfied to move. “I will wait with all the time I have.”

The steady rise and fall of Raphael’s chest lulled him closer to dreamland, and he snuggled one last time before fully relaxing. And somewhere between sleep and reality, he heard Raphael whisper.

“Thank you Gabriel. You are the best.”


	15. Chapter 15

Gabriel paused, dipped the nib of his pen into his inkpot and slowly drained away the excess before bringing it to an open page in his notebook. Before a stray drop could spill, he began penning down his thoughts. The words came easily to him and he wrote at a leisurely pace, revelling in the enjoyable act. Outside, agitated shouts of a shopkeeper echoed in the alley, and the noise of horses trotting down the streets could be heard. Though this environment was nowhere near as conducive as the room in Raphael’s mansion, and held none of the peace that the adjacent garden offered, Gabriel found himself undisturbed. He was absorbed in his thoughts and was not even aware of the silly grin he wore.

All that was penned down were the things he loved about Raphael. Small little things, like how he would playfully force a burp when he ate with Gabriel, or how he would take the glass of water offered to him with both hands. He even liked the senseless things, like the way Raphael scratched his face when he was thinking, and how he stretched out his legs when they sat on the floor. Then he moved on to more intimate memories and described all that he loved about waking up to see the beautiful man sleeping next to him.

His ears were glowing red by then but still he carried on writing. It was a guilty pleasure, but he felt those moments so precious that it would be a waste if not captured and immortalised with words. So caught up was he in his task that he did not notice when Raphael sneaking up behind him.

“What are you writing?” The man chimed and wrapped both arms around Gabriel’s shoulders. “Can I see?”

“M-Most absolutely not!”

His flustered response and accidental spilling of ink over his hands, made Raphael laugh. The sound bounced off the walls of the room, reached the tiny living space beyond the door and disappeared into all the noise coming from outside.

Raphael massaged Gabriel’s shoulders, letting the gentle kneading take away some of the tension. Gabriel sighed and tilted his head backwards.

“Do not startle me like this,” he chided, though he knew Raphael did not take him seriously because he too was smiling.

“I just want to let you know that I have finished washing the dishes,” Raphael said and glowed with pride and eagerness to be praised. “See? I promised not to be a burden.”

“Who ever said you would be one?”

Gabriel tapped the arms that held him to his seat, and when they moved away, he pushed from the table and stood up to hug Raphael.

“Thank you, I am surprised that you did it so quickly.”

He withdrew after receiving a hug in return, and he took his time to admire Raphael. The taller man was wearing the clothes Gabriel lent him, and while he managed to get into them – he was tall but so slim – the shirt barely covered his abdomen and the ankles of the trousers clung awkwardly right below his calves. A strong gust of wind from the open window lifted the hem of the shirt and it fluttered to reveal the cute belly button. Gabriel grabbed the cruel, teasing shirt, and pulled it down to cover the skin.

“We need to have your servants deliver your clothes over,” he stated plainly, trying not to let more heat radiate from his cheeks. He really had to stop attacking Raphael every time the clueless man revealed some skin. It was bad for his heart, sometimes it had trembled and throbbed so violently that Gabriel thought he might be ill, and though he and Raphael had accompanied each other in bed not just in the night but throughout the two days, it never seemed enough. He was greedy, and always left wanting whenever Raphael avoided his attempts at kissing his lips. Perhaps that was the source of his frustration and the reason why he was insatiable, that Raphael still reserved those kind of kisses for Emilio.

But before bitterness could take over, Gabriel reminded himself that he must be patient, for the small dissatisfaction was incomparable to the overwhelming bliss they had shared in these two days that they spent hiding.

The decision to run and hide had come like a whirlwind. The morning after they spent their first night together, Stefano had knocked on the door to wake both of them up. A small group of people had gathered at the gate, and Stefano knew they were the ones behind the production of the opera as they claimed that their purpose of visit was to escort Raphael to the rehearsal. The two barely had time to get dressed and take what they needed before they were ushered to the backyard and out of a backdoor that the servants used.

They had wondered where to go, and they were worried about Stefano. In that moment of panic, it was Gabriel who remained calm and remembered he still had the run-down apartment that his boss had rented for his stay in this country. Their chests were tight as they made their way over and their heads kept turning anxiously to spot anyone who might recognise Raphael. It was only after they had reached, and soon after received word from Stefano that all was well, that they allowed themselves to laugh over the matter.

Raphael could not be more endearing. Despite being a wealthy young master, he had picked up the broom and valiantly, though clumsily, offered to sweep the floor. They tidied the small place together, battling with dust and brushing dirt off each other’s faces, until some measure of cleanliness was restored. Then they collapsed on the clean floor in their exhaustion, held hands and laughed at how exciting the day had been. Because Raphael’s eyes were so enchanting, Gabriel had lunged for a kiss on those irresistible flushed cheeks and passion took over them as chaste touches turned needy. They held each other again that night, and yet Gabriel found himself wanting to press the man down though it had been only a few hours since their previous session.

He shook his head. No, over-indulgence was never good. He had to have more self-restrain.

“Stefano had sent word this morning, saying that he will discreetly leave some clothing at our door steps tonight. I hope he will bring enough for the next five days that we will be spending here,” Raphael said as he closed the windows. A storm was brewing, the sky had been turning dark often these days, but neither of them allowed the poor weather to bring their spirits down. “I hope he brings some nice outfits too, so we may go out from time to time and not stay cooped inside.”

“You are right. If the weather clears tomorrow, we shall at least go to the marketplace.” With a mischievous chuckle, Gabriel embraced Raphael from behind and rubbed the full belly. “We need to stock up on food, especially since a certain someone is such a glutton.”

“Stop that, it tickles!” Raphael protested and spun from Gabriel’s hold, his eyes full of mirth. “You ate a lot too, and kept praising your own cooking on top of that. But aside from ingredients, I think we better pick up some new recipes at the marketplace tomorrow, lest we have to eat scrambled eggs and fried fish again.”

“I know how to make other dishes, I just had little practice,” Gabriel argued, arms crossed in mock anger, and Raphael pulled him in for a tight embrace before ruffling his hair.

“I will eat anything you cook and savour every bite. The food you make is the best I ever had.”

“I certainly hope to continue meeting your expectations, young master.”

Just like that, they captured each other in their gazes and drowned out everything else around them. They did not hear the rain hit the windows, nor the hurried footsteps of people scrambling for shelter. The walls around also became non-existent to them, and it really would not matter if they were standing in the cold rain instead of the cosy room. All that was important was that they had each other for warmth and support.

“It will be all right,” Raphael whispered as he rested his chin on Gabriel’s shoulder. “Once the opera is over, there will be nothing to fear, right?”

“There is nothing to fear even now,” Gabriel countered with a soft sigh and gave Raphael an encouraging squeeze. “Remember that I am here for you.”

“Thank you, Gabriel.”

Their embrace continued even as thunder and lightning ripped the streets outside. They had five more days without music, opera, William or Emilio in their lives, and they prayed that they could be allowed to enjoy this time to the fullest, before they had no choice but to face the consequences.

 

+++

 

Stefano did exactly as he promised and he included a letter in the parcel that was sent over. It detailed the household matters that had come to pass in those two days Raphael was away. It also reported the increased harassment, but it ended with a note telling Raphael not to worry, because Stefano, ‘though old, will not yield easily to the stubborn brutes.’

So it was with a light heart that they walked down the narrow streets to the marketplace in the break of dawn, acting as if they had lived there since forever, and then back up to their apartment with filled baskets in tow.

“We bought a lot!” Raphael announced to no one in particular as he threw open the door.

Gabriel pushed past him with a laugh.

“Bring everything to the counter, I will store the ingredients in the cabinet.”

“Let me help.”

“I can handle it. Just sit at the table and, I know, you can read the news and let me know if there is anything interesting.”

A determined nod, some rustling of the fragile newspapers, and Raphael dived straight to his task. For a while, Gabriel worried if Raphael could understand the articles, because the castrato had never been formally educated and was only taught how to read and write by the same man who taught him to sing. But as he washed the fruits and dried them with a cloth, Raphael’s voice floated past the counter to reach Gabriel.

“Do you know? A murder took place at the sixth avenue!”

“That is horrible. Who was the victim?”

“A middle-aged man. His family refused for him to be named. Thankfully, the culprit has been caught, so there is no cause for worry.”

Gabriel hummed in acknowledgement and continued his work. The vegetables were next, and he frowned when he saw the amount of dirt caught in the leaves. This brought back some memories of his mother who always cooked plenty of vegetables for the family and never complained despite how tiring it was to prepare them. He wondered how she was doing, and resolved to help her more in doing household chores. Then he was snapped back to reality by the next piece of news.

“Do you remember the circus we watched? It seemed they have moved to another town, but worry not, because there will be another troop coming in a week. Just in time before you have to return, Gabriel.”

“That is a relief. I refuse to go back to my country if I cannot get to watch another show with you.”

Raphael chuckled and Gabriel faced the vegetables in his hands with a smile. He understood then why his mother never complained. His nails may come off dirty from the scrubbing and his skin may wrinkle from being soaked in water for too long, but it was worth it because he was preparing the vegetables for someone he cared deeply about. This sheer amount of happiness ringing true in his heart made the chore seem menial, and Gabriel let his mind wander as he worked.

An ache at his neck gradually developed as he kept his head bowed, so he finally took a break. And at that moment he looked up, he realised that he had not heard Raphael’s voice for a while. Perhaps the man was bored of reading the articles and had returned to their room. Wiping his hands on the sides of his pants, he walked out of the small kitchen to see what Raphael was up to.

He was shocked to see the man walk out of the room well dressed, with his hair combed back in the style he used always to greet the public. Likewise, there was alarm in the other’s eyes, and they shifted before focusing on Gabriel.

“I am going out for a while.”

“Where are you going?”

Raphael stuttered the next few seconds as he attributed the reason for his trip to a certain lady whose name Gabriel did not recognised. Something about forgetting a task, and also about repaying a debt. Gabriel did not understand, and he was even more confused when Raphael stopped stuttering and grew more confident in the way he spoke.

It did not make any sense, because it was clear as day that Raphael was lying.

Why did Raphael feel the need to lie? He thought they had already bared their souls to each other. He thought Raphael no longer needed the company of those other women. What brought about this sudden change?

“I will be home late. I trust that you will prepare dinner?”

“Of course Raphael,” he managed a smile, and tried to make it not appear as hollow as how he felt. “I will be waiting for you.”

Hesitation sparked in Raphael’s eyes, and before Gabriel could react, he was pulled into a crushing hug; yet another odd action that he could not understand.

“You give me strength.”

Gabriel said nothing in response. He could not find any words, and it took everything for him to fake his consent and pretend that he was all right just so that he could put Raphael at ease.

The door clicked shut after the man left, and the silence that assaulted Gabriel pressed on his lungs and made it difficult to breathe. He let his gaze rest on the newspaper which was still open on the table. He walked closer, flipped the pages and scanned the headlines to find clues that might explain Raphael’s strange behaviour.

It did not take long for him to find it.

Gabriel stared at the article with dead eyes and studied every detail before slumping into a chair and holding his head. A strangled grunt escaped him and his shoulders shook from a silent defeated laugh. He knew well the reason for Raphael’s sudden departure, his need to lie and most heart-breaking, his hesitation before leaving.

Why, there could only be one reason. Gabriel was an idiot for not having guessed earlier, for not foreseeing such an obvious outcome and for allowing himself to be blinded by illusionary happiness.

The article was small, just a corner of the papers, and consisted of only one paragraph. It explained the recent transfer of ownership of a big theatre to the renowned composer William Crain Macmillan, and the consequential cancellation of a planned concert in which Emilio Castello was invited as guest musician.

William bought an entire theatre just to cancel Emilio’s concert.

It was a demonstration of power, one that gave no room for negotiation and promised harsher punishments should the castrato avoid any more rehearsals.


	16. Chapter 16

The toll of the bell signalled the end of the rehearsal. Before long, people stepped out of the theatre into the square, some chattering with friends, some struggling to carry their heavy musical instruments. Most of their shoulders were slumped but the overall mood of the crowd tended towards tired satisfaction. They walked past the adjacent clock tower, eager to find rest at home, and ignored the lone figure leaning against the wall, waiting to spot the one person who mattered.

Raphael exited from the open doors only after a few more minutes, when most of the other musicians have left. His face was downcast and shrouded in darkness as the light from the interior poured on his back and cast a shadow before him. He rubbed the back of his neck as he walked, and the heels of his fine shoes hit the ground with little thuds which sounded especially prominent in the silence of the night. Unlike the rest, though, he noticed and recognised the man waiting for him, and thus his footsteps slowed to a stop.

“Good evening, Raphael.”

“Gabriel…”

The lamp that Gabriel held swayed slightly, and the flame within flickered in that movement. The light it provided was weak, but enough to illuminate the small smile he had on his face.

“I hope the rehearsal went well.”

“It did,” Raphael paused and looked like he had other things to say, but his parted lips only ended up pressed together before forming more words of little importance. “The orchestra played well today, and the other singers did their best too. I will be performing with a wonderful team.”

“That is good to hear,” Gabriel said, his tone gentle and forgiving. “Did they force you to do anything you dislike?”

“No they did not. The costumes are not yet ready, so I will likely only wear them on the day of the performance itself.”

“I am relieved.”

Gabriel pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning against and extended his hand to Raphael.

“It is late. Let us be on our way home.”

His suggestion was met with a sharp intake of air as Raphael clutched the edge of his waistcoat. His tensed stance and hunched posture spoke of the guilt that he had been suppressing. Gabriel observed and understood, but he said nothing. He had decided not to say anything about what happened in the morning unless the other wanted to talk about it.

“I…I did not mean to lie, but I had to,” Raphael broke the silence and worked to justify his actions. “I had to be here. This is where I am supposed to be, what I am supposed to do.”

Gabriel only nodded.

“Emilio had done too much for me. He gave up a huge part of his career just so he could spare time to teach me. I cannot wilfully cause him trouble. I cannot risk letting William ruin any more of his chances.”

Gabriel nodded again.

“And I could not tell you because…because I can no longer afford to run away. You gave me strength, and I wanted to use it for the right reasons. I never wanted to lie to you. I just thought - ”

At last, Gabriel held up a hand to stop Raphael. All this while, as he listened, his expression remained serene and accepting. But it also displayed his tiredness.

“I understand, Raphael. I do not blame you.”

There was no apology, and it thus showed that Raphael was convicted in his decision to take up the role. In a way, it was good that the man was confronting his fears. Gabriel did not think it was healthy to leave a festering wound from a past trauma untreated, and he believed that Raphael too would become happier after he got over his phobia of wearing a dress. The castrato was behaving more like a sensible adult, and this was supposed to be heartening.

Except it was not to Gabriel. For hours he had sat in the apartment alone, staring alternately at the newspaper, the ceiling and floor. And he had tried to imagine how Raphael felt when he had read the news. The shock, the dread, and perhaps, loneliness from not being able to share it with Gabriel? Or was there only blood-curdling chill when he saw his hopes of having five days of escape shatter before him? Gabriel could only guess, but regardless, there was one thing that was clear to him.

Raphael had once again chosen Emilio over him.

Despite how Emilio broke his heart, he still had rather sacrificed himself to protect his teacher than to turn a blind eye and enjoy his life with Gabriel.

It could not be helped.

“Shall we hold hands as we walk home?” Gabriel dared to ask, his voice barely above a whisper. To his relief, his free hand was clasped fervently. At least he still had this.

“Yes, yes… Let us head home.”

“To your home,” Gabriel clarified. “There is no more need to hide. Your mansion is more comfortable, and I will no longer have to cook.”

The chuckle that ensued sounded hesitant, but it did hold some genuine mirth. They held hands tightly as they walked, and the warmth that spread eased Gabriel’s troubled mind a little. Raphael was here, right here with him, not with William or Emilio, and certainly not with any of his frequent visitors. That was so much better than the empty hours he had spent in the day waiting alone.

Everything would be fine, he told himself. Since Raphael had made his decision, his job was merely to give him support and see him through. The apartment, though cosy, had been inconvenient for the man who was used to luxury. Going back to the mansion was both practical and ideal.

He tried not to think of the floor they swept, the bed on which they slept, and the food that was prepared but left uneaten.

+++

Going back to the mansion also meant that Gabriel had more time to work on his article. After spending the past three weeks in this foreign country, he was finally left with one to complete his assignment. The first thing he had to do was to sieve out the information he wanted to write about, then he had to categorise them in a way that would be easy to understand even to a person who could spare only ten seconds to scan the article. He had to worry about the style of writing too; this article would end up in the more gossipy part of the papers, so his general audience were the upper class and literate women.

The task, though daunting, was a replica of what he had been doing for three whole years. Usually after hugging his head for several hours, he would be able to pull through.

But this time was different. An entire day had passed – how the hours flowed without his knowledge was truly a mystery – and Gabriel was still drawing a blank. He had had several false starts. The hardest part was always the beginning, and he had written the first paragraph over and over and yet found no satisfaction.

Raphael Armento. A singer who was deeply passionate about music? A singer who was sent for castration by his parents? A man well loved by many others? A hardworking student of Emilio Castello?

He could barely even form a coherent sentence now, when writing had been effortless just two days ago. And he was beginning to doubt, for the first time, whether he was suited to his job, and whether he really enjoyed it.

Frustrated with himself, he set down his pen and crumpled the newest failure.

“You will soon be drowned in paper if you refuse to take a break.”

Raphael stood at his door holding two mugs of coffee. He had entered without knocking, but that did not disturb Gabriel in the slightest; they were past such formalities especially after sharing a room for two days. One mug was set on the table, and the other was received with gratitude. As Gabriel stared at the steam rising from the coffee, Raphael made his way behind and gave him a massage.

“Thank you. It feels good, but you do not have to do this. You must be tired too.”

Gabriel did not turn to look, but he knew the other must have shaken his head.

“I am, but I still have enough energy to at least do this for you.”

They let the comfortable silence pass between them. It soothed Gabriel’s mind and gave him temporary release from the stress which had begun setting in. Balls of crumpled paper littered the floor around them and yet another storm was brewing in the night sky, but a smile still found its way to his face because he was with Raphael Armento, the man he loved.

If only he could write that in the article.

Gabriel stretched as he stood and suggested that they enjoyed their coffee in the sitting room. He wanted to spend some quality time with Raphael especially since the hours they could spend together was greatly reduced.

“You know, William is not that nasty when it came to work,” Raphael was sharing. “He oversaw the rehearsals with dedication and humbly accepted the conductor’s interpretations of his composition. He is also especially generous towards us, the main cast, and would grant any of our requests…”

Any, except a request to withdraw, obviously.

Raphael appeared carefree enough as he spoke and did not look like someone who had cursed that man and called him a swine just a few days ago.

“…So I went ahead and requested for a seat in the front row for you,” Raphael shone a grin, stood and struck a pose. “Rejoice, for you get to see the famous castrato from up close!”

Gabriel chuckled at that. He then reached out to grab Raphael by the waist and pulled, making the taller man straddle him on the couch. They rested their foreheads together and allowed their noses to touch.

“Now this is what I call ‘up close’. Will I be allowed this close to you on stage?”

An adorable giggle floated from the lips he still could not claim, followed by the words, “you silly man.”

“Perhaps you can teach me to sing and I can take the role of Ariodant.”

“Certainly!” Raphael laughed. “You are a thousand times more preferred over the current actor. Cornelli is a handsome man with a great voice, but he exuded none of Ariodant’s charm.” He paused for his laughter to fade away before continuing with a more sincere tone. “Your courage and sense of righteousness make you a better fit.”

“You flatter me,” Gabriel said and did not voice out his inner argument. If he was really courageous and righteous, he would not be writing articles that seek to only appease the crowd. Even for his current assignment, he knew he was supposed to write only what people wanted to read about the castrato; the truth did not matter. Yet the truth was all Gabriel ever wanted to write.

He swallowed back a sigh and shifted so that they sat side by side on the couch. And he wound an arm around Raphael’s shoulders, needing to feel his warmth and remind himself to live in the present.

“I also asked William to give me three days to prepare before leaving on the tour with him.” Raphael had his eyes closed as he spoke, and his head leaned heavily on Gabriel’s shoulder. “I hope that we can be together every minute in those three days.”

“We will, and we will still meet after that. I will travel to wherever you go to watch you perform.”

“And I will reserve a seat for you always.”

It seemed like it was all they could do; giving verbal assurances and remaining positive for each other. Raphael especially behaved as though nothing was wrong. He went for his second rehearsal in the morning without the slightest display of fear, and he uttered not a single word of complaint. And now he was telling Gabriel about the places he would go with William and trying to convince both of them that it would be “a good exposure” and “will not be that bad after all”.

Their banter continued deep into the night with the occasional laughter that they could still find in themselves to produce. Neither was keen to go back to their rooms, for it meant surrendering this precious moment to receive the coming of the new day they both dreaded. Gabriel ran his fingers through Raphael’s hair in idle caress, and he too closed his eyes, not wanting to watch the hands of the clock tick away right in front of him. Finally, everything gave way to silence, and only melted candles and half-drunk coffee bore witness as they dozed off together.

+++

Gabriel woke up alone on the couch with a blanket draped over him. The clock told him that it was still too early for Raphael to go for his next rehearsal, so he guessed that he had returned to his own room. Yawning, Gabriel gathered the blanket into his arms and made his way out of the sitting room.

An abrupt force slammed into him from the side the moment he walked out the door. He stumbled, drop the blanket and caught the maid in his arms by sheer coincidence, for his reflexes were still dull from lethargy.

“Are you all right?”

“My deepest apologies!” the maid jumped away once she regained balance, and she bowed deeply before hurrying away.

Gabriel stared as she disappeared down the stairs, and he thought it was really weird. The maids always tended the house when their master was not around and made sure to stay out of sight especially when there were visitors. Gabriel, though his stay was long, was still considered a visitor, which was why he seldom saw them. Yet now the maid – no, Gabriel corrected himself when he saw another – the _maids_ were all scrambling around the mansion in a frantic manner.

“What happened?” Gabriel asked halfway down the stairs, as soon as he saw Stefano standing in the middle of the hall. Three maids surrounded the butler, and they were reporting, in ragged breath, how they had already “checked everywhere”.

“Mr Hathaway, I apologise for disturbing your rest,” Stefano said, and after dismissing the maids, he asked, “Do you perhaps know where the young master might be?”

Gabriel felt his throat run dry in that instant, and he narrowed his eyes.

“Raphael? Is he not in his room?”

Stefano shook his head, a rare look of dread replacing his usual calm demeanour.

“He was already awake when I woke up. I asked him to get more rest, but…” The butler glanced sideways, and after an excruciating pause, dipped into a bow and continued. “It may be my fault, Mr Hathaway. The truth is, I found an envelope dropped at the gate in the middle of the night, and I passed it to young master. He retreated to his room to read the letter, and before I knew it, he vanished.”

The explanation reached his ears but he could not quite comprehend. He only knew that his fingertips had gone cold and that his heart was beating so noisily he wanted to shout at it to be quiet even if just for a second so that he could actually think.

“Vanished? Could he have gone out?” Questions left his lips in a flurry, and he only realised he had more to ask. “Why would he need to go out? Who sent the letter? What was written in it?”

“Nothing was written on the envelope, and it was not my place to read it, Mr Hathaway.” Agitation and panic interlaced as he spoke. “I hold all the keys in the mansion. He could not have gone anywhere without my knowledge.”

“He climbed,” Gabriel said, his mind still reeling. He had no proof, it was just a spark of suspicion, but that was enough for him to take action.

He hurried past the dining room into the backyard with the confused butler following close behind. The main gate was out of the question, it was too tall and there were spikes at the top which made it a poor choice if Raphael indeed wanted to climb. The servants’ gate in the backyard however, was a more plausible option, and when Gabriel reached it, he knew he had guessed correctly. A chair was propped against the gate, and given Raphael’s height, it must have been easy to hoist himself over.

“This has never happened before. Why would young master seek to elude me? I would have obeyed without question and opened the gate for him. I would even have made arrangements for transport to ensure his safety…”

Gabriel rested a hand on Stefano’s upper back though he knew it would not ease his worry. He felt distraught too. The sun had barely risen, the sky was still dark blue and just a few hours ago they had been cuddling on the couch and chatting. And now suddenly Raphael was missing, gone without a lead.

“Stay here, Stefano, in case he comes home. I will search for him.”

Stefano nodded, reached for the bunch of keys in his pocket and hesitantly unlocked the back gate for Gabriel.

“I await your good news. If he is not found by noon, I will raise the matter to Mr Castello and seek help from the town’s authorities.”

“Yes, please.”

Leaving behind the short acknowledgement, Gabriel dashed out to the main street. Only cold wind greeted him as he stood alone in the empty street, looking left and right like a lost soul. He had no idea where to start and he did not know who, out of so many of Raphael’s contacts, could have sent the letter. His stomach flipped as he considered horrifying scenarios, and his teeth clenched tight in an attempt to maintain a grip on himself.

Raphael was a grown man. He must have a good reason for committing this disappearing act.

Gabriel randomly chose a direction and ran, praying with all his heart that Raphael was not doing anything stupid, and that nothing untoward would happen to him.

 


	17. Chapter 17

Buildings whizzed past him as he ran, and he kept his eyes peeled, searching every corner of the streets and scanning faces of every stranger. Three hours had passed since he stepped out of the mansion. His lungs burned and a throbbing ache assaulted his thighs and calves, but still he pushed onwards, because more than the ache, his desperation to find Raphael grew, and he was getting more worried with each disappointing turn. Several times, he had grabbed the arms of tall men only to apologise profusely for making a mistake. The repeated shattering of his hopes left him drained and agitated, and he was just slightly short of shouting Raphael’s name and announcing to the public about the disappearance of the castrato.

He had looked everywhere, traced the places they had gone together and peered into every alley along the way. He went to the old puppeteer’s shop, the circus grounds, the park, but there was no sign of the man. He had gone to several theatres too and discretely asked if anyone had seen Raphael. There was no clue, none at all, and Gabriel could not believe how helpless he was, and how little he knew, despite having spent so much time with Raphael.

His footsteps slowed to a stop after he stepped out of the church they had gone to on the day when he first kissed Raphael. Perhaps the calming atmosphere of the holy place affected him, or perhaps his adrenaline had run out, but the heat that dominated his brain began to cool and he was able to think more clearly. He could rush around town the entire day, but there was also the possibility that Raphael was on the move. They could miss each other and it was impractical for Gabriel to keep circling back to places he had been. Worse still, it was possible that Raphael had left town, to return to his home in the village, for example.

Could the letter be sent by his parents?

Gabriel shook his head to refute that guess. His parents seemed barely literate, so that decreases the chances. Even if it was indeed sent by his parents out of emergency, Raphael had no reason to climb out of his own mansion without telling Stefano, for it would have been faster to have the butler arrange a coach for him.

Raphael did not want Stefano to know where he was going, and this was the greatest part of the mystery that he could not solve.

But there was no time to dwell on it. He had to think and put himself in Raphael’s shoes. What kind of letter would spur the man into such rash actions? Who could evoke such an extreme response from Raphael?

Then it all came back to haunt him; memories of how Raphael dropped the berries he had collected, how he pried his hand away from Gabriel’s hold, and how he suddenly changed his mind and decided to go for the rehearsals after reading the papers.

Instead of knocking his head against the wall, Gabriel held it and took a long deep breath.

How many times did he need to be taught, be _shown,_ that every single time Raphael did something out of the ordinary was because of Emilio?

His subsequent walk towards Emilio’s mansion was the exact opposite of how he had rushed about earlier in the day. There was no enthusiasm at all, though he knew his search would soon be concluded. There was only dread, and he wished that he had not been the one to dash out to look for Raphael. He wished it was one of the maids, or some other servant, because then he would not have to see with his own eyes again – the sight of Raphael pinning for Emilio.

He wished he had guessed wrong, hoped that this was one exception to the reason for Raphael’s actions. Yet when he turned the last corner and reached the end of the road leading to the mansion, there Raphael stood, right in front of the closed gate.

Gabriel made no move to approach. He observed Raphael, saw his arms resting limply by his sides, shoulders slumped, lips parted, and his eyes gazing at the shut windows in hollow trance. How vulnerable he looked, like a lone leaf dangling off a branch, so weakened that the slightest breeze would carry it away. And away it would float, out of Gabriel’s reach no matter how he stretched out his hand.

The distance between them had never felt larger.

By some odd miracle, the focused man shifted his attention from the mansion and turned to look in Gabriel’s direction. It was then that he found the answer to the mystery that had been bugging him. It was not Stefano that Raphael wanted to elude. It was Gabriel.

Raphael’s eyes spoke of shock, guilt and shame, and every other part of him screamed his desire to run away. But he remained standing still with the same determination it took for Gabriel to walk up to him.

“What did he write in the letter?” Gabriel had to know, and thus this was the only thing that slipped from his mouth amongst all the other things he had wanted to say. Like how he had been looking everywhere for him, or how he was afraid he would never see Raphael again just like this.

Very hesitantly, Raphael reached into his coat to pull out the letter. It was not encased in an envelope, and it was crumpled from being pressed against his chest.

“He…he said that he had found a solution for me, but I would first have to don the dress and sing.”

Gabriel let that revelation sink in, and it helped him to detach from his emotions and focus on logic. This was fine, he told himself, because first and foremost, his priority had always been Raphael, and he too would do anything to find a solution for him. Emilio’s claim, however, was weird and did not sit right with him. What was the point if Raphael still had to wear the dress? What problem then, was the solution for?

“Was there any explanation?”

“No,” Raphael said, and his face twisted into an agonised smile. “He never explains.”

It was understandable why Raphael needed to see Emilio, so although Gabriel knew there were many other reasons, he ignored them and forced himself to put his arms around Raphael. The hug was not returned immediately, but Gabriel waited, and when at last he felt Raphael’s warmth surround him, he said the truth that bordered on being a lie.

“I do not blame you, Raphael. You can tell me anything.”

Their embrace tightened, and Gabriel could sense Raphael’s resolve crumbling, feel the man succumbing to the temptation to share. It seemed that both of them wanted equally to believe in Gabriel’s words.

“He worded this letter like he would his last. He said that he did not want our quarrel to be the final exchange between us. He…” Raphael paused to breathe, and he held on to Gabriel with all the strength his shaking body possessed. “He thanked me, for all the years. He apologised for all the times he had hurt me, and he said that he would understand if I choose never to forgive him.”

Gabriel felt moisture staining the collar of shirt, but he said nothing and allowed Raphael to continue.

“He said he would be returning to his home country, so that he would not become William’s bargaining chip for my obedience. He said I can ‘rest assured’, that he would not appear before me again.” The latter part of his sentence broke into sobs, but it was quickly switched into a strangled laugh. “And now he is not around. Has he already left the country? Or is he avoiding me? This letter…this wretched letter was supposed to be farewell? Thirteen years, and he would let it end with a letter.”

Raphael tore from the embrace and wiped away his tears angrily.

“And he still had the nerve to tell me what to do! What solution? I do not need something like that. I was going to sing in the opera anyway. I do not need his meddling. I am not a child anymore!”

“Raphael…”

“He is a coward!” Raphael yelled with a warped smile. “He did not even have the guts to speak to me face to face!” Then as suddenly as it escalated, his yell collapsed into a disorientated whisper. “Actually, what am I doing? I am wasting time. The rehearsal is starting soon and I have to go.”

The castrato adjusted his cravat, smoothed back his hair and turned to leave, but he was stopped by a hand on his arm.

“Wait, do not go - ”

Furious, Raphael wrenched his arm away and exploded.

“Are you going to tell me what to do as well?!”

The regret set in right after the outburst, but though Gabriel could tell that from the softened eyes, he only felt numb.

“I will return to the mansion first,” he said with a sigh, “and I will see you when your rehearsal ends.”

“Gabriel…”

He heard Raphael’s call but did not acknowledge it. Finding Raphael and listening to him talk about Emilio already took all of his energy. Besides, he had to hurry back to ease Stefano’s worries, and he had an article to write.

But most of all, he needed rest.

+++

The atmosphere between them remained tense that night. They walked home together without speaking a word, and they retreated to their respective rooms thereafter. Gabriel stayed up late to write and hours drifted by without him being productive until the desire to sleep overpowered him. Dreams of his home and his family tempted him to sleep longer than usual, and by the time he woke up, Raphael had already left for the final rehearsal.

It was almost funny how quickly time passed that day, the day before the opera. Gabriel ate his lunch, sat at his desk, tried in vain to write for a while, and before he knew it the sky had turned dark and it was time to escort Raphael home.

Neither of them could find the right words to say. Gabriel’s eyes remained glued to the road as they walked, and though he sensed Raphael sneaking glances at him, he did not reciprocate. They also did not hold hands; Gabriel was too tired to ask, and Raphael did not say anything about it either. After they reached the mansion and changed into more comfortable clothes, they sat at the dining table opposite each other and had their dinner.

The cook prepared a steak for them that night, and it brought back memories of the first time he heard Raphael talk about Emilio. He had, in unnameable frustration, stabbed at the meat subconsciously. Things had changed since then, Gabriel had changed, and he was now far too conscious about everything, too aware of his own thoughts and emotions, to do something as uncontrolled as that. Holding his knife and fork steadily in his hands, he began cutting neat chunks and placing them into his mouth.

Soft clinks sliced the silence once in a while as they ate wordlessly. Raphael fidgeted from time to time, and Gabriel noticed it whenever he looked like he had something to say, but alas, nothing came.

He knew he should probably say something. Raphael must be at his lowest, and it was only a few hours away from what he most dreaded. Gabriel wanted to cheer Raphael up; he still loved the man’s smiles and laughter, that had not changed. He still cared deeply about Raphael, and he did not think it was right to not give his support at this most crucial moment.

“Time flies really quickly.” The awkward sentence was squeezed from his throat, and Gabriel thought he sounded strange. Nonetheless, he received a nod as awkward as his attempt to break the silence, and he continued. “It is almost one month since I first met you. If…if a month can pass so quickly, then surely tomorrow will be over in an instant.”

Raphael nodded, and this time added, “you are right.”

Hearing Raphael’s voice again after so many hours healed Gabriel in a profound way. His shoulders relaxed, his head felt lighter and a smile appeared on his face.

“We can finally enjoy ourselves after tomorrow. Some new shops are open just a few streets away. We can walk around districts we have not been to.”

A messy clatter sounded as the tip of Raphael’s knife shook and hit the plate in rapid succession. The steak on his plate was untouched, and Raphael was staring at it as if it contained all the answers to his questions. The utensils he held fell from his shaky hands when he lifted his head to look at Gabriel.

“You are too nice to me. Too nice.” Tears glossed over Raphael’s eyes, but not a drop spilled. He bit his bottom lip to control himself. “I admit that I am scared, Gabriel. I am scared to put on the dress.”

Ditching the rest of the steak, Gabriel pushed himself off the table and circled over to Raphael. Likewise, the other man stood up. They stood a metre apart and looked into each other’s eyes, then as if it was the most natural thing to do, they embraced.

“Nothing will happen to you,” Gabriel whispered into Raphael’s ear. “You are no longer a child. You are taller than most men. No one will be able to do anything to you.”

“You are right. You are always right.”

“You just need to be on stage for two hours. After that, we will tear the dress to shreds and burn it.”

“Yes… Yes, we will do that.”

“I will be there to protect you. I will not let any man touch you.”

Raphael trembled in Gabriel’s arms, and he could hear every hurried intake of air as the man did his best to keep his composure.

“Thank you Gabriel…I…I need you. Please lend me half of your courage. Please do not leave my side tomorrow.”

A weak gasp followed, and choked by it, Raphael started to cough. It pained Gabriel to see him like this, and he only hoped that patting his back could somehow make him feel better.

“I was afraid,” Raphael managed to say with his raspy voice. “I was so scared that I had lost you too.”

The desperate hug that followed crushed the restraint that Gabriel had put over his emotions and made him tear up. He was an idiot to have made Raphael feel insecure by giving him the cold treatment. He was a complete moron for behaving the same way as Emilio.

“I am sorry…”

“No, I am the one who should apologise. I should never have raised my voice at you.”

Dinner forgotten, they stood and hugged until their legs grew tired. There were no more tears after that, only brave smiles, and they went back into Gabriel’s room when it was time to rest. Gabriel repeated soothing words and whispered sweet nothings for many long minutes until Raphael fell asleep.

And Gabriel watched as Raphael’s chest slowly rose and fell. He stroked his hair, traced the back of his finger down the side of his face to his jawline and repeated the motion. He listened to the stable breathing, took in the familiar scent of his clothes, and kept himself close so neither of them would feel cold. An hour passed in a blink, and Gabriel found himself wide awake.

Then another hour passed, and he was still looking at Raphael.

Sleep did not find him that night, even though his heart was as calm as still water, and he was not so sure why. He simply found the sight of Raphael sleeping peacefully too precious to tear his eyes away, and no amount of fatigue could convince him otherwise. It was as if the moment would be lost forever if he looked away. So he stayed awake while Raphael slept, treasuring the time they had together, until the sun peeked from the horizon.

 

 


	18. Chapter 18

Gabriel sat in a corner of the open-air theatre and did his best to ignore the glances cast his way. He cleared his throat, fiddled with the cravat he was not used to wearing, and then sank further into his seat and did his best to be invisible. An hour ago, he came face to face with William, and the interaction – an exchanged glare – was awkward. His cover was definitely blown; no servant would have been allowed to wear the corsage that signalled him as a special guest. They were a few hours away from the start of the performance and everyone was busy with the preparation. No one was supposed to be watching this full dress rehearsal except for their sponsors and the most esteemed guests. Gabriel felt totally out of place.

In the orchestra pit was a cacophony of noises as musicians tuned their instruments and practiced passages individually. On stage, the actors and actresses went through the cues with the conductor one last time. The one clad in golden armour and wearing a helmet must be Ariodant. Beside him stood a man wearing a black cape, Gabriel assumed that was the antagonist Othon. The irony was that they were chatting and laughing like good friends. Some ladies moved about the stage as a group, most likely revising the trajectory of their movements, and they wore ridiculously loud jewellery around their necks. Everyone wore fancy costumes, except for Raphael who was still dressed in his usual men’s clothes.

By sheer coincidence, an accident happened three days ago and the tailor had to recreate Ina’s dress. Both Gabriel and Raphael had crossed their fingers and hoped that it would not be ready on time, but a messenger just sent word earlier that the dress would be delivered two hours before the performance. No matter, they were thankful for the delay, for Raphael would not have to suffer in his trauma for longer than necessary.

There was a short break on stage, and Raphael turned to wave at him. He waved back and tried not to blush; more eyes had shifted to him and their curiosity burned him. But Gabriel had promised to be with Raphael for as long as possible, so he was not about to back out even if he felt uncomfortable.

A raised hand silenced the orchestra, and all the cast exited backstage. The conductor turned around to seek the composer, Maestro Macmillan’s permission, before he raised his baton. In one collected breath, the musicians sprang into action and delivered the first phrase of the overture with gusto. The powerful pulses shook the theatre, its chaotic melody hinting at the nature of the upcoming opera. With each wave of the conductor’s baton, the music built up in intensity and secured its grip on all who was listening, including Gabriel who was holding his breath.

Then the music came to an abrupt halt as the conductor slashed the air horizontally.

“This is fine. Now four bars before the end, leading to the first act.” He tapped the baton on the music stand and waited for the musicians to flip to the correct page before lifting it again. “Ina, be at the ready.”

Gabriel sat upright at that prompt, and his heart beat became faster as he anticipated Raphael’s appearance. It had been too long since he last heard Raphael sing, and though they dreaded the opera, Gabriel could not deny that he looked forward to hear the castrato’s heavenly voice again. When the music began, it was much gentler than the start of the overture, and softer still it became, until it melted into a timid, romantic, tune.

Raphael walked in with hands held together before his chest, wearing the expression of a maiden in love. The castrato was such a professional actor no one would have guessed how much he hated his role. And when he parted his lips and let loose the melody, all that the audience could see and hear was how much Ina was in love with Ariodant. The knight appeared in the scene after the opening lines and Ina ran to his side. Their hands touched, palm against palm, and they looked at each other’s eyes as Ariodant sang his undying loyalty to the princess while she answered each line by declaring her happiness.

It was silly but Gabriel felt jealous and he could not help but grumble about their proximity under his breath.

He was obviously not the only one. Othon, the rejected suitor, was soon introduced and together with Ina’s maid, they plotted devious ways to coerce Ina into loving him. The split scene on stage was fascinating, as Ariodant and Ina flirted on the left while Othon swore revenge on the right. It was getting exciting and Gabriel was dying to find out what would happen next, when suddenly the conductor chose to skip scenes once again.

It could not be helped, they did not have enough time to rehearse the opera in its entirety. Gabriel sighed and decided he would only watch seriously during the actual performance itself, lest the repeated suspense killed him. The lack of sleep had started hurting his head, so he leaned back and closed his eyes as the cast rehearsed the transitions, and he let the wonderful music lull him into a shallow sleep.

Raphael’s singing eased his worries, and though he counted down the hours at the back of his mind, he chose to believe that Raphael would be able to pull through the performance without mishap.

+++

Princess Ina’s gown was a stunning royal blue. The fitted bodice was structured with whalebone and it had a low rounded neck line. Shimmering embroidery adorned the flowing skirt, and the narrow sleeves were overlaid with white laces that flared out below the elbows. But what made this beautiful gown even more splendid was its sheer length.

It took two ladies to hold the gown out for inspection.

“I cannot wait to see you in this,” William said and Raphael shuddered. “I am sure you will look fabulous in it.”

Pleased with the work, the composer rewarded the ladies and did not pursue the matter regarding its delayed completion. The gown was sent along with Raphael to his dressing room. For all of William’s perversion, at least he had the decency to go outside while Raphael changed. He waited until the man’s footsteps faded before sending away the two ladies who were supposed to help him get dressed. After a minute, he opened the door and ushered for Gabriel, who had been watching from behind a pillar, to enter.

They greeted each other with a smile, strained though it may be.

“No one followed you?”

“I drew attention, but was quick enough to evade.”

Gabriel spared the gown which laid on the table only a fleeting glance before he looked at Raphael again.

“Just four more hours. Remember…”

“You are here for me. Nothing bad will happen,” Raphael finished for him and Gabriel chuckled.

“Yes, and we will burn the dress once it has served its purpose.”

They gave each other a hug and let it last for as long as they could afford. Then Raphael withdrew and began taking off his clothes. There was no shyness in his unhurried motions; they had already seen all of each other and there was nothing left to hide. Gabriel stood at the side to hold each article of clothing as it was removed and he took care to fold everything neatly. It was like a solemn ritual, and no perverse thoughts entered Gabriel’s mind even as Raphael revealed his bare torso. Only his drawers and stockings remained when he was done, and he stood before Gabriel, fighting his fears.

“Will you put the dress on me?” he asked quietly. “I will feel less repulsed if you are the one doing it.”

Gabriel did not reply, there was no need to. He spread out the inner shift that rested underneath the gown, gathered the bottom and raised it over Raphael’s head. Once his arms passed through the sleeves, the rest of it draped over his body till it reached and covered his knees. Next was the petticoat, he remembered only because, in his mother’s absence, he once had to help his little sister get dressed when she was a young child. The stays were harder to put on. Gabriel tugged at the ribbons, struggling to keep it in the desired shape, and at the same time, he worried about Raphael.

“Is this too tight?”

“No, it is fine,” the man replied, and he sounded faint.

Gabriel paused to let Raphael recover; his face was already as white as the shift he wore and his breathing was getting laboured. But alas, time would not wait for them. He had to be dressed within the hour, and half of it had already flown by because of Gabriel’s clumsiness.

The panniers were tied around his waist and another petticoat was laid over. Gabriel tried to do everything as quickly as he could, so that he would have some time left with Raphael after he was fully dressed. But the heavy fabric and complicated process slowed him down and he had to undo several steps because he forgot to attach the pockets.

Just when he managed to put the gown on, a knock sounded on the door.

“Sir, please allow us to help. Maestro is calling for the final cast gathering.”

Raphael gripped Gabriel’s arms with both hands, begging for Gabriel not to leave. He was not ready, there was simply not enough time for him to deal with and get over his phobia. But Gabriel was at his wit’s end as well. He did not know how to pin the gown in place, and more importantly, he did not know how to put on the wig, cosmetics and jewellery.

Resting both palms on Raphael’s shoulders, he forced their eyes to meet.

“Listen to me, you can do this.”

“I cannot…I cannot be seen in this dress…”

“No, you will be fine. Trust me. Nothing bad will happen.”

Raphael swallowed with much difficulty, and his eyes darted to the door in panic when another knock sounded.

“Gabriel…how do I look? What do you see?” he whispered the questions and shut his eyes to await the answer.

“You are still you, Raphael. I see only you.”

It was the truth. Though Raphael looked ethereal in the elegant gown, Gabriel was not bewitched by his outer beauty. It had been the man’s personality that captured his heart since the beginning, and that was not about to change just because of one stupid dress. Reaching up, Gabriel cradled Raphael’s face and pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek. He lingered, and Raphael let out a shuddery breath. A semblance of calm returned to the man’s eyes, and for that, Gabriel felt just a tiny bit relieved.

“Sir, please, allow us to enter. Time is running out.”

“You have to be strong, Raphael.”

With that, Gabriel slipped into the short corridor that connected to another dressing room and left through that other door. He had no time to turn his head, and he lamented that he could not stay long enough as he rushed back to the waiting area outside the theatre. Now only the performing cast and crew remained inside, everyone else had been ushered out to await the start of the opera. Glasses of wine were served to those who wore the corsage, but Gabriel did not pick up any. He could not get the petrified look on Raphael’s face out of his head.

Despite the promises he had made, he was not able to remain at Raphael’s side. The man was left alone in his battle and had only himself to rely on. Gabriel could only pray for things to go well, and he did so with his aching heart clenched by uncertainty. He could not shake off the feeling that he had been too naive all along and had grossly underestimated Raphael’s distress.

He feared that his words of encouragement had fallen on deaf ears.

+++

At five in the afternoon, three crashes of cymbals sounded and they were followed by a drum roll on timpani. Sunlight lit the theatre with a pleasant warmth; although it had rained often in the month, the weather turned out to be a perfect blessing on this important day. Applause and cheers roared behind Gabriel, and his own feeble claps were lacklustre in comparison. He sat at the first row, ignored the rest of the world and kept his eyes on the stage.

The drum roll ended with a decisive thump. At last, the orchestra members stood up to proudly receive their conductor, and as he entered from the side, the crowd erupted into another bout of cheers. He shook hands with the esteemed guests, and he invited the composer, William Crain Macmillan to stand beside him as he bowed to the audience.

The baton was raised, the theatre was silenced, and the tension was allowed to prolong until, with one vigorous plunge, the orchestra snapped alive. The overture was exactly as Gabriel had remembered, strong and passionate, and he was sure all who listened would fall prey to its lure.

Not Gabriel though.

He sat through the overture like a rock, and his fists were balled atop the thighs they rested upon. The melody did not register, did not sieve past the web of worries in his mind, and he thought only about Raphael.

If only he could run back stage now and give the man one more hug. If only he had done something, anything at all, to better prepare Raphael for this trial. What had he ever done for the man he claimed to love? Nothing at all, save easily worded assurances, all the while turning a blind eye to the real suffering inside. He only went along with all of Raphael’s whims, and now he wondered what good it had been.

The overture mellowed down, and the audience held their breath as the very tall ‘princess’ made his appearance. Raphael’s long wavy wig tumbled down his shoulders, and he looked nothing like a man. He looked nothing like a dreamy love-struck maiden either, with his arms wrapped around himself, and his face cast down.

He looked like a lost child, and the sight robbed all heat that flowed in Gabriel’s veins. There was his answer, the result of his inaction and of his uselessness.

Empty eyes scanned the crowd and Gabriel knew he did not enter his vision. He was not the one Raphael was looking for.

A note was dragged, it was cue for Raphael to begin, but he did not sing. The melody slowed, awkwardly, waiting for the singer to catch up to it, and still he did not sing. Murmurs rose from the crowd, and the conductor, anxious and frustrated, stopped the orchestra with great reluctance.

Then Raphael opened his mouth and all was silent except for a desperate, hollow call.

“Emilio.”

It was audible to Gabriel only because he sat at the first row.

“Emilio, where are you?”

Raphael raised his voice slightly, and the murmurs around Gabriel grew louder and drowned out his heartbeat.

“Emilio. You are here, you must be here!”

Two men rushed on stage, and they grabbed Raphael’s thin arms, but he struggled without acknowledging them.

“I will not sing unless I see you! I will not sing! Emilio!”

The last scream echoed madly in the theatre as the castrato was dragged away. The audience asked questions, some demanded a refund, and others expressed their displeasure. The organisers worked to hush them with the promise that the opera would start again in an hour, and that this time there would be no ‘accidents’. Still, everyone moved about, wanting to receive an explanation that they could be satisfied with.

Only Gabriel sat unmoving in his seat.

He did not need any explanation, because it was already too late.


	19. Chapter 19

He was essentially torturing himself by going to Raphael’s dressing room, but he needed the closure.

The corsage he wore allowed him to pass through the crowd of angry audience and eager journalists. Nobody stopped to enquire his purpose of visit, because they were already too busy dealing with the mess caused by the castrato. He made a turn and saw William surrounded by unhappy sponsors. He walked past open doors that revealed the rest of the cast’s frustration.

But he watched the chaos with numbness, and he could not quite empathise with any of the negative emotions. It was like he was watching from behind a thick glass panel.

Deeper into the complex he went, until he reached the pillar next to Raphael’s dressing room. There, he hid and waited as throngs of people knocked on the locked door, demanding the castrato to get out there and sing. Some used threats, some used softer persuasion, but still there was no response.

Gabriel waited, believing that _he_ would come. And true enough, a man weaved through the crowd from the opposite direction, and upon recognising him, the people made way. Everyone else retreated from the door, and after a few quiet words from the man, they nodded reluctantly and left.

“Raphael,” the man called, and Gabriel thought the tiredness in the voice surpassed his own. “It is I.”

The door flew open so easily it mocked all the previous failed attempts, and Raphael, still dressed as Princess Ina, threw himself into Emilio’s embrace.

No words were exchanged for a while, but Gabriel could see the communication between them; the subtle snuggles, the frail clawing, and the way their faces nestled close together. Nothing was said, yet their mere presence weakened each other. The stoic and resigned expression Emilio wore twisted into agony and regret as Raphael sank to his knees.

“I thought I would never see you again.”

The statement was uttered softly but to Gabriel, it sounded like a wail. Tears flowed freely as Raphael sobbed, and Emilio sucked in a broken breath.

“I am here. I am here now.”

“I thought you did not want me anymore.”

“Never. I would never.”

Teardrops slid from the corners of Emilio’s eyes as he raised a trembling hand to caress Raphael’s cheek.

“I have only ever hurt you,” he said, and Gabriel could hear Emilio’s soul shattering from the painful confession. “Forgive me.”

Raphael’s sobs became louder as their foreheads touched, and they cried together with the honesty that had been held back for years. Fingers clenched and unclenched, and they shifted against each other as they could no longer stand to suppress their hearts’ true desire. Frustration built along with the sheer desperation, until at last Emilio plunged and sealed Raphael’s lips with his own.

Gabriel watched the passionate scene from behind the pillar, watched as they panted from the kiss only to resume after a fraction of a second. He saw how tension slowly left Raphael, and how he drowned in the warmth that he had craved and needed.

Then without making a single noise, Gabriel shut his eyes and walked away.

+++

As promised, the opera began again after an hour’s break. Disgruntled audience returned to their seats, and they swore to never return for another performance if this one did not satisfy them. The overture sounded again, but it was not as grand as their first try even though the musicians did their best. It was feeble as it played in the midst of jeers, and those jeers only heightened when it was time for Ina’s reappearance.

But the music that flowed from the castrato’s lips immediately hushed everyone present.

Raphael was not the innocent princess on stage. He did not hold his hands before his chest in the superficial portrayal of stereotypical love. The way he walked and his natural gestures spoke of a deeper emotion. His haunting voice, neither male nor female, convinced the audience that his love was real, painfully real, and that it had nothing to do with gender.

Even the man acting as Ariodant was impacted, and he sang with greater tenderness than during the rehearsal. It was like he was caught off guard by Ina’s love, and he did not know how to match that intensity. Nevertheless, Ina answered his every phrase, not with shallow happiness, but with drunken bliss. There was something so raw and intimate in the duet that it made the audience blush.

Gabriel did not return to the first row, instead, he stood at the back, amongst those who were too late to purchase a seat. He had removed the corsage as well, he no longer needed it. And he stood dumbly for the whole two hours as the scenes unfolded before him. His ears filtered out every other sound and focused only on Raphael’s voice. He listened, truly listened to it, to better understand the castrato, for his singing was so genuine he was practically naked on stage.

Then it dawned on him that he had never understood the person known as Raphael Armento.

At the climax of the opera, Ariodant unveiled Othon’s treachery, Ina was saved, her reputation was redeemed and the lovers reunited. The crowd went crazy with joy at the perfect ending, and their cheers and applause thundered as the cast formed a line. Ariodant and Ina held hands, and they bowed in unison, bathed in the waning light of the setting sun.

It was then that, to everyone’s surprise, a certain distinguished lady walked up the stage to stand beside the cast, escorted by two guards. The cheers diminished into confused whispers, and Gabriel heard the others identifying her as Lady Amaretto, the only daughter of Earl Porfirus, but that piece of information was unimportant in the face of his revelation. Even from afar, he recognised the extravagant hat the lady wore; she was the one who kissed Emilio that night.

The lady spoke briefly to Raphael before raising a palm to call for silence. She motioned for the conductor, and he was instructed to project her every word to the audience. The announcement was simple, it spoke of her admiration of the castrato’s talent and her decision to cast him as the lead character in the opera that was to be performed for the king on his birthday.

The nobility’s general tendency to involve themselves in the arts was known to the people, and they did not consider the situation weird. They clapped enthusiastically, all supportive of her decision, except for William Crain Macmillan who stood dumbfounded at the side of the stage. It was no wonder; the composer had finally seen the value of his prize, only to realise he could not claim it. The lady announced her decision first and thus she won – William would be going on his tour as planned, whereas Raphael would stay.

It was nicely played out and even Gabriel had to marvel at Emilio’s foresight and resourcefulness. The letter that Emilio sent also made more sense now. The mature man had weighed out all the pros and cons, looked past the temporary threats and identified the real problem he needed to solve. If Raphael had gone with William, his performances would be subjected to the man’s whims, and his growth as a singer would be limited. To be presented to the king with the support of a noble family was much more empowering in comparison, though this could happen only because Raphael accepted his role and sang as Ina.

There was no way Gabriel could have thought of this. He lived in a different world from the musicians, and he could never comprehend their complicated way of life. And that was why, in the end, Emilio was the one who saved Raphael, not Gabriel.

Emilio was Raphael’s Ariodant. Not Gabriel.

His breathing was even as he exited the theatre. From the way the crowd shouted for an encore, he knew that Raphael would be home late. Or perhaps he would not go home at all, now that he was reunited with Emilio.

The evening wind tousled his hair as he walked alone, down the familiar path on which he had walked with Raphael hand in hand back home. His mind was strangely at peace and he could analyse this entire month with great clarity. He wondered, in the most objective manner, what he could have done to make Raphael love him and what he should have done to help the man get over his trauma. But the conclusion that he reached, after witnessing all that Emilio had done in the shadows for Raphael, was that his actions would be futile anyway, for even if he fetched the very moon for Raphael, his heart would still belong to Emilio.

It made sense. A month could not compete with thirteen years. Gabriel had known right from the start that it was impossible, yet he had gotten carried away and deluded himself into thinking that he actually stood a chance.

It was because of Raphael’s smiles and the way his eyes would turn into slits whenever teeth showed in his grins. It was his laughter that struck warmth right into his heart and made it impossible to keep himself from laughing along. It was his every movement, his every word, that made Gabriel fall head over heels for him. And even now as he felt so used and betrayed, he refused to think that all of it was a lie. Raphael did feel something for him, even though it may not be as strong as his feelings for Emilio. Gabriel could sense it, and he knew for a fact that it was not his delusion.

Gabriel stopped blaming himself. It was not his fault that things turned out this way. It was not Raphael’s fault either, and definitely not Emilio’s fault. There was no one to be blamed.

The walk back home took longer than usual, and by the time Stefano opened the gates for him, it was already dark. He took off his coat and passed it to the dutiful butler, then he made his way to the dining table. The menu that night was a feast, to celebrate the success of the opera, but Gabriel indicated that he would eat without waiting for Raphael. Life had to go on, his empty stomach had to be filled.

Appetizers were served first and Gabriel ate it without saying a word. The starters were next, and Gabriel praised the presentation of the dish, a mix of salad with cheeses and cold cut meats. He could tell that Stefano was concerned, so he even spared him a smile. After he placed the last of chunk of cheese in his mouth, his plate was cleared to make space for the first course.

A plate of pasta was placed before him.

As Gabriel stared at it, imagining the rich taste of the cream sauce in this addictive dish, he remembered how he had eaten something similar when he brought the castrato out to enjoy that one day. Raphael had stuffed the food down with uncharacteristic haste, and he had burped and laughed when he was done.

_‘Do I resemble a commoner?’_

Droplets of tears splashed onto the plate and he could no longer make out the individual shapes of the pasta. His head burned and his limbs were stunned in the sudden explosion of emotions triggered by that one insignificant silly memory. He sat there weeping soundlessly and only turned his head when he noticed Stefano standing beside him, handing him a handkerchief with a polite bow. Unable to help it, Gabriel threw himself at Stefano and pressed his face into his coat. The sobs escalated before long and turned into a strangled wail that resonated pitifully in the large lonely mansion.

“I loved him!” he cried. “I really loved him!”

The rest of it was incoherent howling, interrupted by gasps each time the ache in his chest became too much to bear. Gabriel cried until he exhausted his energy reserves, and he collapsed weakly from the chair on which he sat. Stefano patted his back, supported his weight and urged him to rest. With one arm slung around the butler’s neck, Gabriel was lifted to his feet, and he stumbled and cried on his way to his room.

Like a child, he was helped onto the bed, his shoes were removed for him and a blanket draped over his reclining body. His eyes were closed, his chest heaved erratically from the hiccups and his tears flowed down the sides and stained the pillow. So great was his anguish that he almost passed out from all the crying, and he needed help to sit up when Stefano fed him water.

The way the butler pampered him reminded Gabriel of his parents. He missed his own bed. He missed the smell of his house and he dearly missed his family – the only people in the world who loved him unconditionally.

He reached out and grasped Stefano’s arm.

“I want to go home,” he croaked. “I want to go home, Stefano.”

“…I shall arrange transportation for you, as a favour for always being kind to young master.”

Fatigue washed over Gabriel and he only managed a nod. His head returned to the pillow, and he allowed the softness to give him the slightest comfort. He thought about nothing more, and once the throbbing in his chest subsided, he welcomed the void that claimed him and drifted into a deep dreamless sleep.

+++

Gabriel wrote one last sentence in his notebook before closing it for good. It was a fitting way for his stay to end, after all, words were all he had ever given. He placed his pen and inkpot in his bag and allowed himself one last look at the room. Then, without lingering, he picked up his suitcase and walked down to the hall where Stefano waited.

“Please ensure that you have brought along everything,” the butler reminded and handed him a basket of little gifts. Food, mainly. “This is courtesy from the house. Please accept it.”

“Thank you, Stefano,” Gabriel said, and upon recalling how he bawled his eyes out the night before, he smiled and elaborated. “Thank you for all your services throughout my long stay. Thank you also…for being around last night. Your presence helped.”

“It is my duty,” the butler replied and dipped into a bow.

Outside, a horse carriage arrived right on schedule, and Gabriel insisted that he would at least pay the coachman on his own. The butler relented after a short exchange, and thus he put on his cap and stepped out of the mansion.

“If I may!” Stefano’s call made him pause and turn his head. He saw that the butler still had a concerned look on his face. “It is presumptuous of me, but I have a request, if you would listen to this old man.”

Gabriel gave his consent and Stefano continued, looking straight at him in the eye.

“Please write kindly of young master. He has caused you pain, but it was not his intention. He is…a boy who never meant any harm.”

Gabriel let the words sink in, then he took a breath an answered with a wry smile.

“I know.”

That was all he had to say. He nodded, Stefano bowed, and he made his way to the open gate. But when he was just ten steps away, a familiar figure came running and stopped right before him. Long arms stretched out to block his exit, and the man panted heavily. His brown hair was dishevelled and he wore the same clothes as yesterday.

“Wait,” the man begged, “Do not leave me, Gabriel.”

“Raphael…”

“I received word from Stefano that you are leaving early. Do not go yet. Please. I still want to… I still want to walk the streets with you and watch the circus. These three days…we promised!”

Unspeakable anguish rushed from the back of his throat and his eyes stung again from tears that he thought had run out. Gabriel shook his head slowly, and he squared his shoulders to face the puppy look in Raphael’s eyes.

“No. I am going home,” he stated and then added after swallowing bitterness. “You have Emilio now.”

The dejection and remorse on Raphael’s face was plain to see, but Gabriel thought that this was not right. Raphael should not have to feel so agonised over something that none of them could help. He should be smiling. He should be happy forever.

“I wish you…all the best…for your future endeavours.”

Gabriel forced himself to smile, but his lips quivered and would not cooperate. He had more to say, more well wishes, but the lump in his throat had grown so big that it threatened to block his air passageway, and no matter how hard he swallowed, it did not go away. Giving up, he told himself that he would just say two more words, and for that, he summoned all his courage and strength.

“Goodbye, Raphael.”

He walked past the man he loved, and the latter did nothing to stop him this time. The coachman helped him with his suitcase, and the door was held open. He was about to step in when he heard one last question.

“Will I…Will I ever see you again?”

Gabriel closed his eyes and inhaled. Peace returned to him as he did so and he felt better, more relaxed. This one month, filled with so many ups and downs, had taught him many things, and he had grown as a person. So it was this growth that enabled him to answer Raphael, though his heart had been torn asunder.

“Perhaps we will meet again when we have both found our paths and captured happiness. Until then, I will be…”

He finished the rest of the sentence without turning around to look at Raphael. He did not see his reaction, could not bear to see his expression, for he knew it would provoke the part of him that was still very much in love. But he hoped that what he said would give Raphael some consolation. He hoped that Raphael would remember his words.

This was enough. It was time to let go.

The horses trotted off after a light tap, and the mansion soon diminished far behind. Sights that had become familiar over the one month passed him by, and he took them in one last time. Then, as the buildings gave way to trees and the wilderness, he leaned back and rested.

 


	20. Chapter 20

One man strode purposefully out of a building against a crowd of people rushing to enter. It was late in the morning, and their boss would have their heads if they had reported to work any later, even though he always reported an hour late himself. A co-workers recognised the man and wondered why he was walking out instead of walking in with them, but alas he was more concerned about preserving his own wage to stop and ask questions. Thus the man continued walking without anyone stopping him, and he exited the narrow street to turn into yet another narrow street. It was like he was invisible, no one cared about where he went and no one spared him a second glance. The freedom was liberating, and he continued walking with broad steps in firm belief that he had done the right thing.

But resolve was a terribly fragile thing, and it ebbed away slowly as the streets grew quieter because everyone had gone to work except for him. Without that resolve, he was open to panic’s assault, and that was exactly what happened as he squatted down and held his head.

What had he done?!

Gabriel took off his cap and messed up his own hair. This was not good, not good at all. He had aging parents and a young sister, he had bills to pay and mouths to feed, and he had gone ahead and added another debt to his list of worries. How much would he have to pay again? How many pounds, for his month-long stay in another country combined with other liquidated damages? How angry would his boss be when he arrived at work and saw what he had done?

Somehow, that last thought calmed him down considerably, and he snickered. Serve that demon right, a rebellious part of him cheered, for his boss was not someone he respected. He imagined the fierce man picking up the article he had written, his ugly eyes of a dead fish bulging at the atrocity, and Gabriel shifted his hand from head to stomach and laughed. That man had wanted a juicy article about the castrato and to see the rumours circling about him confirmed with words, but there was only one sentence written on that single sheet of paper.

_Raphael Armento is a human being._

It was the culmination of his month’s experience, and truthfully, he could find nothing else to write, for no other words could encapsulate the complexity of that person. So he had left it as that and allowed it to double up as his letter of resignation. This was his decision after three full days of pondering, and though he worried about making ends meet, he did not feel a shred of regret.

Like Raphael had once said, he was perhaps unsuited for his job.

A sad smile graced his features as he remembered all the things that Raphael had said to him. Among the jumble of words, his many praises stood out. That man had called him kind, brave and strong. He had occupied Raphael’s heart and turned that man’s perception of him from ‘a breath of fresh air’ to ‘the best’. Back then, he did his best to ignore those praises and not let them affect him. It was funny how they ended up becoming what he treasured the most from their short relationship.

Moisture welled up in his eyes as he recalled the time he had spent with the beautiful man, holding his hand, kissing his cheek and hugging him to sleep, and he thought, ah, he was still hopelessly in love with Raphael. He would be lying if he claimed he did not miss him.

But he had already decided to move on, and he knew he could do it because he was now so much more confident in himself. Wiping away tears with the back of his sleeve, he got to his feet. He must have looked like a lunatic when he was squatting, panicking, laughing and then crying, but it did not matter. He did not care how he appeared to others, as long as he remained true to his emotions. That brought him to his next task – he had to find another job, one in which he could write truthfully and not resort to lies just to earn money.

He thought about his selfish boss who worked less than all his workers. Then he thought about William, who manipulated people just because he was rich and famous. At last, his thoughts went to the hundreds of boys out there with voices of angels, but sent for castration by their own parents. It would be wonderful if he could write to expose the ugliness of the unjust society, to spread awareness and thus save people with his words. It was a lofty dream, but he had never felt so sure that this was what he wanted to do with his life.

He missed Raphael, and he was sure he would one day attend his concert just to hear his heavenly voice again. But before that, he had to progress, become an even better person and most importantly…earn more money so that he could actually afford to travel.

With one helpless laugh, Gabriel put on his cap and headed off to find his new job.

+++

Stalks of flowers flew towards the stage and the castrato bowed to graciously accept the audience’s love. It was yet another opera with resounding success, and his fame was growing more than ever. People loved his voice, and they clamoured to hear more of it. Pleasure and satisfaction, even gratitude, was present in their grins and cheers, and Raphael took his time to appreciate what he had earned.

Unable to help himself, he also looked towards a certain seat right in the middle of the front row, and he felt another pang of disappointment upon seeing how it had been left empty once again. It did not surprise him though, for it had been like this for every concert that he had sung in the past three months.

Sneaking a sigh, he stepped off stage to retreat to his dressing room. On the way, he bumped into a lady by accident, and he held an arm out to steady her. She lifted her head to thank him and then they recognised each other. It was Lady Lilia, one of the girls who use to visit him often. Raphael took up her hand and kissed it in greeting, and he thought, from the way she composed herself, that the coquettish young girl had become a little more mature.

“It is wonderful to see you again, Raphael,” she said with a smile, and her eyes twinkled with admiration for the castrato.

They had a short chat while staying at a respectful distance from each other, and although Raphael sensed her keen interest in him, he did not make any moves on her. Gone were the days he flirted with anyone out of loneliness and boredom, because he had promised a certain man that he would only be intimate with the person he loved. So their chat ended with Raphael asking for her continued support, while the lady giggled daintily and agreed, because first and foremost, it was the castrato’s voice that she was enamoured with.

The dressing room greeted him with many bouquets of flowers, sent by his sponsors and dedicated patrons. Despite the beautiful medley of colours, Raphael heaved a sigh, because he only saw them as contribution to his problem. There was simply no more place in his house for anymore flowers. All his vases had been filled, and he preferred to keep his garden groomed in its minimalist style.

Deciding to leave the fate of those flowers to the theatre’s crew, he changed out of his costume, that of a prince, and reached for his regular clothes. As he turned, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror, and his attention was caught by the glimmer of the moonstone pendant he wore before his bare chest.

It was Gabriel’s gift to him, and that man had left it, along with the broken chain, on the table in the room he occupied during his stay.

+++

That morning, Raphael had stood at the gate and stared in the direction that horse carriage went, even long after it disappeared out of sight. It took Stefano’s gentle prompt for his to finally tear his gaze away from the empty street and return to the mansion. He thought to retreat to his room and change, for he felt uncomfortable wearing the same clothes as the day before. Emilio had offered him a fresh change of clothes when he stayed over at his teacher’s house, but he had declined. It did not feel right to take off his clothes to wear Emilio’s. Neither did it feel right to share a same bed, so he had requested to sleep in a separate room that night as he suffered in self-reproach. He had been too ashamed to see Gabriel, and did not know how to face him.

He had let Gabriel down and wasted his efforts. He had not been strong enough after all, and he had chosen the worst moment to break down. He was the most selfish and disgusting ingrate he had ever known. That was why he had run back the moment he received news of Gabriel’s departure, desperate to make amends, but he was too late. He had hurt Gabriel too much.

His footsteps slowed to a halt before he reached his room, and he found himself standing before the closed door of Gabriel’s. His hand found the doorknob, and he gave it a twist and entered. Curtains fluttered in the wind from the open windows that Gabriel had forgotten to shut. His bed, the one on which they have shared a few nights, was neatly made. The whole room spoke of calm, and the silence in there was not as terrible as the one that rang in the rest of the mansion.

His eyes gradually shifted to the table, and at first he was alarmed because there were objects on it, and he feared that Gabriel had forgotten to bring them along with him.  But when he stepped forward and took a closer look, he realised that Gabriel had intentionally left those objects behind. There was a pendant and two notebooks.

The sight of the pendant, and the remembrance of how he had rejected the gift and thrown it on the ground, doubled the guilt that ate away at him. He had no idea that Gabriel had picked up the pendant from the dirt and cleaned it like it was treasure. He had been too unappreciative; the pendant obviously cost more than ‘a penny’, and though its value was pathetic compared to other jewellery that Raphael kept, he realised that it might have been the most expensive object Gabriel had ever purchased.

With shaking hands, he picked up a notebook and opened it. There, on the first page, were notes about Raphael’s acquaintances and his descriptions of the people. Gabriel had listed himself among the rest, and labelled himself as ‘writer from another country’. He continued flipping, and saw how the entries changed, from stiff factual notes to laments about Raphael’s tragic past. It ended up being a diary, and Raphael could not bring himself to read the words in detail, especially when he reached the part where Gabriel wrote about his love for him.

Then the entries came to an abrupt halt, and nothing was written, save for one sentence that hovered in the middle of a blank page.

_I do not blame you, Raphael. So please forgive yourself._

An urge to cry hit him, and he worked to control his tears. He had no right to shed them, he told himself, not after what he had done. And no, he could not forgive himself. He reached for the next notebook, and he convinced himself that reading Gabriel’s words was the most rightful punishment for him.

An awkward laugh escaped him when he realised he had read them in the wrong order. This other notebook was not a continuation of the diary entries, but rather, more stiff notes taken down during their first few interviews. There were even some complaints and insults, as Gabriel had called him ‘arrogant’ and ‘obnoxious’ in the first few pages. He accepted the blaming words, and he thought that Gabriel was right. He was always right.

Then he flipped a page and froze.

He stared at the cluttered page for many seconds, and his fingers trembled when they flipped it to reveal more similarly vandalised pages. They flashed by faster, and still Raphael could not believe his eyes, until he reached the last page.

There, scribbled in huge font across the page and spilling over to the inside of the back cover, was a single word – ‘Raphael’.

It was the conclusion of the hundred other times his name was written in the previous pages. It was an expression of the man’s emotions, and Raphael had not realised that Gabriel felt so strongly about him this early in their stay together.

Tears fell from his eyes before he could stop them, and they landed on the page and smudged the ink. He closed the notebook and cradled it against his chest, then he knelt on the floor and wept. He whispered his apology over and over, trying to seek some kind of forgiveness from the person who had already left. He stayed in that position until his legs went numb, and he ended up needing Stefano’s support to stand and go back to his own room.

+++

Raphael closed his fingers over the pendant and took in a deep breath. The time that had passed in Gabriel’s absence had washed away some of the pain he felt, and now, though he still could not forgive himself, he felt less bitter. This pendant symbolised all that Gabriel had ever taught him, and he wore it every day to remind himself of his resolve to change. He wanted to become more like Gabriel, and he wanted to fulfil all that Gabriel wished of him.

A knock on the door, and the sound of a voice Raphael would never mistake, snapped him from his daze. He called for the other to wait, and he put on his clothes as quickly as he could. He opened the door only after he was fully dressed, and he greeted his teacher with a smile.

“Emilio.”

“Raphael. You have done well today.”

The simple praise lit his heart, and his smile broadened into a grin.

“Only because you are the best teacher in the world.”

Emilio smiled, it was just a slight upturn of his lips, but it was enough to send a flutter to his stomach. His teacher, the person most important to him, showed his emotions more freely than ever since that opera, and though he had known his teacher to be an affectionate man when he was a child, the adult Raphael felt unused to the change. It was with held breath that he allowed the palm to caress his cheek, and he did not lean into it, even though he had done so without a second thought all his life. Things had become different; Emilio’s touches had taken on a different meaning and Raphael could not hold back his shyness from surfacing as warmth on his cheeks. His eyes darted downwards and drifted from side to side in uncertainty. He could not meet Emilio’s eyes, not when that man gazed at him with that amount of tenderness and intensity.

They stepped into the room and Emilio waited for Raphael to finish packing. The younger man did so with clumsiness, for he felt nervous being alone in the closed room with Emilio. And so he felt incredibly thankful when a knock on the door broke the silence.

A man stood on the other side, and he delivered another bouquet to Raphael. This one was less excessive than the other large bouquets, and it consisted of only one type of flower. White carnations. It was simple and unique, and Raphael wondered who had sent it.

There was a card resting between petals. He carefully picked it up and read its contents.

A second passed and Raphael raised his hand to cover his mouth. He knew without a doubt who the sender was, because written on the card was the last portion of the same parting words he heard from that man.

_‘Perhaps we will meet again when we have both found our paths and captured happiness. Until then, I will be…’_

_Loving you from a distance._

He sat on a chair and allowed himself to indulge in the scent of the flowers as he held them in close embrace. Emilio walked to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder, and he knew that the older man understood his need to savour this private moment.

“You came,” Raphael whispered. “You came as promised.”

At long last, his wish had been granted. It was his salvation, and he thought he could finally forgive himself just a little.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Raphael apologised as he pushed the bouquet aside and turned towards Emilio. “Shall we …mmph!”

His eyes widened. With one hand rest on the desk, Emilio had bent over and claimed Raphael’s lips in a gentle kiss.

Blood rushed to his face and he blushed madly, taken aback by the sudden display of affection, and though he tried to lean back and escape, Emilio pursued and sought to deepen the kiss. Overcome by passion, his lips parted helplessly and allowed their tongues to meet, and they entwined just barely, with a mixture of solace and possessiveness. He was left dizzy and gasping when the kiss ended.

“I understand that you have your reservations, and I am patient,” Emilio explained and his tone was heated though his words were calm. “But please do not forget…that I am here, waiting.”

Not knowing what he could say to that, for his heart was thumping too loudly for him to process his thoughts, Raphael merely nodded. He could not answer Emilio yet, did not dare to allow themselves to do more than kiss, but his hesitation was weakening especially with the way Emilio courted him recently. The surprise kisses, the loving gestures, had built up his temptation to succumb. They happened more often too, and Raphael was getting increasingly doubtful about how long he could continue to withstand the sweet attacks.

For this day, however, he successfully held back his desires. Because it was a momentous day, he wanted to spend just one more night thinking about Gabriel and recalling the good times they had spent together. Then, perhaps, he might be able to move on and give an answer to the man he had always loved.

Standing up and wearing an embarrassed smile, Raphael picked up his suitcase and walked out of the dressing room with Emilio. He left behind all the bouquets he had received, including the one with white carnations. The card was also left on the desk, for he did not need any more physical objects to serve as remembrance.

Gabriel’s words were imprinted in his mind, and that was enough for Raphael.

 

 

-End-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello~ Thank you so much for reading this story! I wrote it a few years ago, but it's still very precious to me, and I'd be delighted if you would comment to share your thoughts.
> 
> Due to the nature of the ending, I understand that the work is pretty controversial lol. Some of my readers hated it (and hated Emilio) and I don't blame them haha. It's just a story about a short and sweet love which didn't work out, and though that's the tragedy, I'd be very glad if you could appreciate how both Raphael and Gabriel grew from the experience.
> 
> Well, if you don't dislike Emilio, please feel free to carry on reading to find out more about him~ =D


	21. Emilio (part 1)

He had decided to have nothing more to do with music.

The suitcase he carried was light, and it contained only the bare necessities. Money in this foreign currency, a few sets of clothes and some food. He spent the past few days hitching rides from travelling merchants and performing troupes. The last performing troupe he travelled with was a group of fun-loving people who welcomed his presence because he knew music; that was why he declined a longer stay and insisted that he went the rest of the distance to the town by foot.

They must have passed by this area last night, he figured as he looked at the tracks left on dried trodden soil. It extended far across the meadow, and he was grateful for it because then he did not have to spend days looking for the right direction. Starving in the wilderness was one of the worst ways to die, and he was glad he could avoid that.

But even if he were to starve to death, it would be a million times better than living the stale life in his home.

He shook his head and picked up his steps again. There was no point in dwelling in the past, and he had decided to start afresh and begin living as a human being, even if it meant the loss of comfort. Surely there were other things he could do, he thought as he fixed his gaze forward. He was twenty-two, healthy, and he was not afraid to do menial work for survival in the chance that he could not find a more prestigious job. When he reached the nearest town, he would work hard to earn a living on his own, and then discover what else life had in store.

That was what he thought, until the singing of a child stole his attention.

He spun, trying to look for the source of the voice, but it stopped before the wind could even pick it up, and he was left wondering if it was just his imagination. He tightened his grip on his suitcase and took a large stride forward, reminding himself that he had to get to the town as soon as possible.

Then it sounded again, the young voice of an angel, sweet in its unrefined purity. It was soft and he had to strain his ears to listen, and he did so by reflex, trying to figure out the tune that was sung. His suitcase dangled loosely at his fingertips as his legs carried him closer to the voice until it became loud enough for him to recognise the melody. It was a tune that the performing troupe played. Whoever was singing had memorised the melody with amazing accuracy.

He was shocked when he realised how young the owner of the voice was. The child sat among grass so tall that his small frame only reached half its height, and he was mindlessly fiddling with the green cage around him as he sang.

From a distance away, the man watched and listened, fearful that his presence might scare the child and stop the wonderful music that flowed from his lips. If the child had been just a little older and had the right training, he would certainly flourish as a singer. To think that this great potential and pure display of talent could be found in such a remote area of the country; it was a miracle. But it was unfortunate, for the malnourished child who wore only rags and lived in poverty would never get an opportunity to taste fame and success.

As the man stood there, he was suddenly struck with a realisation that he had the power to change the child’s fate, and it was a terrible realisation because of the sheer responsibility it entailed. A nervous smile surfaced, and he thought that this was fate playing a cruel joke on him. He had decided to have nothing more to do with music, yet here it was, a chain that dragged him right back into that world only a week after escaping it. There was no escape wherever he went, it seemed. There was no escape, for better or for worse.

+++

A boy sat by an unnoticeable corner of the roads and cried. He did not recognise his surroundings; he had gotten lost in his desperation to run away, and now he was struggling to choose between asking for help to go back to his father and starving on the streets.

A year ago, his mother left them and ever since then, his father had become strange. He was a strict man to begin with, but the intensity worsened as months passed. The boy rubbed his swollen blue knuckles tenderly, sucking in a breath whenever he moved his fingers and triggered the pain. It was his fault, his father had said, for spacing out and making so many obvious mistakes. It was unbecoming of the only heir to a family of musicians and composers. For that, he needed to be punished; one hit for every wrong note, until he could get the entire passage out flawlessly on the harpsicord.

He could not take it, so he ran. Now he was drenched, shivering and hungry.

That was when they first met. The rugged man with a beard and blackened teeth squatted beside him, shone him a grin and handed him a bread. He spoke a different tongue and they could not communicate beyond awkward gestures. The boy nodded to show his gratitude before chowing down on the bread. The man reached for the boy’s injured hand, held it in his own and frowned. He then gestured to the streets and raised both his hands with palms facing up. The boy shook his head.

The man then pointed at himself and said “Castello”. The boy followed suit and introduced himself.

After that, they sat without looking at each other until the boy finished eating the bread. Feeling guilty for accepting a person’s kindness without giving anything in return, he reached into his pocket and took out the only coin inside. It was instantly rejected though; the man shoved the coin back into the boy’s pocket and laughed.

In the next moment, the boy’s wrist was held – not his hand, for the man did not want to cause him pain – and he was pulled to his feet. Something his mother used to tell him echoed in his head, reminding him that he had to be wary of strangers. But for some reason, the warm smile that the man wore reassured him, and he trusted him more than his mother who had chosen to leave.

They went deeper into the alleys and came to a stop at that man’s makeshift home – a shelter over the head, rags to keep warm and a pot to cook food. The boy was shocked that there were people living in such extreme poverty, for he had never been allowed to go near the poorer districts of the town. Suddenly the pain on his knuckles seemed like a trivial issue. Why, just the coat he wore was worth at least ten times more than all that man’s possessions combined, and yet the man had given him a clean bread and rejected his coin. The man could have easily robbed him, or even kidnapped him to demand ransom, but he did nothing like that.

They became unlikely friends. The boy eventually went home and faced the consequences for running away, but that did not stop him from slipping out again after that, just so he could meet up with his new friend and pass him some food. The man always greeted him by ruffling his curly black hair, and he found the gesture warm and reassuring. He eventually showed the boy how he managed to survive on the streets.

The man neither scammed nor stole from anyone. He was poor but he retained an honest soul, and he worked to earn money by playing the flute on the streets.

When the boy heard him play, his jaw dropped, for he could not believe that the rugged man was such a talented musician. What was he doing in the alleys? Why was he not performing in a great hall and showered with money and praises? Such was the disparity at that time, but the boy could not accept it. He told him, in his own language, that he would introduce the man to his father so that perhaps he could be introduced into the upper class’ world of music. It was not clear if the man understood, but he just laughed.

When the boy next visited, he was given a flute. Just a small one, because the man could not afford anything bigger, but it was the best gift he ever received.

Learning from the man was an entirely different experience for the boy who endured countless suffocating lessons. There were demonstrations, encouragements and only laughter whenever he made a mistake. The man showed the boy the wonders of music and its ability to change people.

So it was to the father’s utmost surprise when the boy suddenly became an expert in playing the flute. He asked to visit his mysterious teacher, but the boy, having seen the world’s unfairness and grown up a little, was hesitant. He did not know what his wealthy father might do to the impoverished man. Nevertheless, he led the way with the faith that there was still some good in his father, and that perhaps he might make his teacher’s life better.

But the man was nowhere to be found. The alley was empty, there were no shelter, rags or pots. The man had simply vanished, and the boy never had the chance to say ‘thank you’ in his teacher’s language.

+++

Many years had passed since then, and as the man watched the singing child before him, he clutched the small flute hidden within his coat. Could he show this child the same magic and hope that his teacher had shown him?

It felt like a calling, one that he could not refuse, because he had never felt such a strong purpose in his life.

This was the country his teacher came from, and he had spent years learning the language. He would be able to communicate with the child, and perhaps this meant that he could do even more than what his teacher did for him.

He dropped his suitcase and let the thud draw the child’s attention to him. But before he introduced himself, he decided he needed a new name, so that no one could track him down and drag him back to his home far up north.

A play on his real name would suffice – Emilio. As for his last name…

“I am sorry I startled you,” he said. “My name is Emilio Castello. May I know yours?”

+++

He was never quite the brilliant teacher that the real Castello was. Emilio soon learned how difficult it was to teach Raphael, and how frustrating it was whenever the child ran away from practices.

“Come back here right now!” he shouted. “Or you will not get any food later!”

One thing he had learned from living in this country, was that he had to exaggerate his anger in order to be taken seriously. Yelling in an uncouth manner was often more effective than politely wording arguments, and for the mischievous boy, this was the best way to discipline him.

He watched, triumphant, as Raphael froze in his tracks and mechanically turned around. The boy looked adorable with his doleful puppy eyes, but Emilio was too used to this trick to give in to the plea. Reluctantly, Raphael dragged his feet back to the house, and Emilio ruffled his hair with a smile. What he said was actually a lie, he would never physically punish Raphael, but the threat worked and so Emilio was content.

For the past five years, he had lived in this village and went to town once every few days to work. In order to give Raphael chances to perform, Emilio could not avoid continuing his musicianship. He worked from the bottom up, playing in small churches until his fame slowly grew and he got connected to more powerful people. As much as he loathed to admit, his success was largely thanks to the strict training he received since he was a child. It was not enough to be a genius back at home, but thankfully it was different for Emilio in this country.

He also tried to look for his teacher, but there was no trace. No one knew another Castello, it was as if that man never existed.

“Emilio.”

Raphael’s voice snapped him from his thoughts, and he asked what the boy wanted.

“Can I sing something different today, please?” Raphael asked as he sat on the harpsicord bench with legs dangling. “I am bored preparing for the upcoming concert.”

Sometimes, Emilio thought he indulged his student too much. Raphael had become better at asking for things, and while Emilio had no trouble thwarting the attempts to skip lessons, he found himself acceding to every other request. In fact, every time he thought of refusing, he ended up recalling his own bleak childhood and changing his mind. It was one of the reasons why he taught Raphael without asking for anything in return; he wanted to give Raphael the kind of childhood that he never had.

Taking a seat beside Raphael, he played several chords to indicate the scale.

“We shall practice improvisation then. I will play a phrase and you will sing the rest. Ready?”

Emilio chuckled as Raphael straightened up and beamed. Ever since he first showed Raphael how to improvise, it became his favourite lesson. Glad that he managed to pass on the love like how his teacher did many years ago, and he started playing a simple tune.

Raphael continued the first line in a predictable manner. He did the same for the next, but Emilio knew he was just warming up. It was coming soon, the teacher braced himself, and indeed at the third line, the student went berserk with his creation and continued with an atrocious series of notes.

The music stopped and the boy laughed heartily.

“Why in heaven’s name did you find the need to modulate the chords?” Emilio demanded amidst his own chuckles.

“It was horrible!” Raphael exclaimed proudly, threw up his arms and collapsed sideways to lean against Emilio’s shoulder. “This is so fun!”

Shaking his head, he gently pushed the sticky child away and resumed playing.

“Try being a little more serious this time,” he said, but he knew Raphael would not listen anyway.

Their lesson continued that way, with Raphael randomly hijacking the melody as and when he felt like it. And Emilio let him, because he liked seeing the boy so happy. Besides, he had little to worry about since Raphael was blossoming into a great singer.

He was so glad he decided to take Raphael as his student, and he was thankful for their fateful meeting at the meadow.

He never thought a day would come when he regretted his decision.

+++

“You teach him, and we thank you. But I am his father, not you.”

Emilio stared at Raphael’s father in disbelief. The note of finality in that declaration struck him hard, and he clenched his fists so tightly nails dug into his palm. A thousand thoughts flooded him, and he searched for a way to fight for Raphael, cracked his mind to find a reason that could triumph over kinship, but he could not.  

It was then that he noticed Raphael standing at the door and extending a hand towards him. He clasped that waiting hand without delay.

“Did we wake you up?” he asked and worked to conceal the pain in his chest. “Do not worry, go back inside.”

“Emilio…I want you to join me.” Raphael said, yawned and rubbed his eyes with his free hand.

Emilio pulled him into a hug, so that he would not see the anguish on his face.

“Of course, Raphael. Of course.”

They held hands until the boy fell asleep. Moonlight entered through the windows, bathing half of Raphael’s face in its pale glow. Emilio reached out to brush the back of his fingers over the side where light did not reach, tenderly, carefully, to seek some kind of forgiveness in advance for his betrayal. He tried not to think about the pain that Raphael would have to go through the next day.

The decision to send Raphael for castration was made out of desperation.

The boy still wore rags and could not got to school even though he was already ten years old. His parents too, looked malnourished and worn out. They were poor and they had nothing much to rely on for income other than their son’s voice.

Emilio understood, but his teeth were still gritted. He was angry at Raphael’s parents, and angry at himself for having nothing to say against a father’s authority. It reminded him of his powerless self in the past, and the countless times he was denied of choice because of his father.

The boy stirred in his sleep, and Emilio quickly placed a palm on his head to soothe him. He waited for the small body to relax and for the breathing to become steady before allowing himself to hug Raphael. His actions were contradictory, and though he did not want to disturb the boy’s sleep, he pressed a kiss on his forehead. He lied whenever Raphael awoke, told him that everything was fine so he could go back to sleep, only to squeeze the small hand so tightly it woke the boy again.

Perhaps he actually wanted to wake Raphael, so that the night would not eat away the present and the next day would come later. But one thing was for sure - Emilio stayed up the whole night and tasted every minute of dread until the day broke.

Raphael dressed in his best, held his hands and climbed into the horse carriage without suspecting anything. Emilio, resigned to his task, kept silent throughout the journey.

But when they alighted and the two of them stood hand in hand in the sweltering heat of summer, it suddenly struck Emilio that was only one way to avoid the tragedy. Before him sprawled the narrow streets that would bring them to their destination, but instead of looking into the shadows, his eyes were fixed on the tall directional sign board that gleamed under the sun. To his left, a winding path up the mountains, and to his right, a road leading to the sea.

“Raphael,” he called in a trance and heard only noisy cicadas. “Let us…”

And as quickly as the idea possessed him, it disappeared, and he was left with a head that was too cool. He thought about Raphael’s future.

Where could they go even if they ran? Would he be able to take care of the boy?   
What if Raphael’s beautiful voice was indeed lost after puberty? What could a penniless, uneducated child like him do other than sing?

Emilio knew that his student, who possessed both talent and passion in music, would go far as a castrato, and it was this wretched knowledge that sapped the strength in him.

He tried to ignore the inquisitive gazes as he walked. There was no point in explaining; Raphael would not understand, only fear, and there was nothing they could do to avoid what was already decided.

His little songbird was going to have his wings clipped and end up chained to music for life.

The only thing he could do was stay by his side.

+++

The week after the surgery was torturous for both Raphael and Emilio. The boy breathed heavily and shivered as he lay in a tub of cold water while Emilio stood at the side and carefully kept track of the duration. It was infection caused by the wound, and Raphael had been suffering a high fever for the past three days. He was also always in pain, yet Emilio did not dare to give him more opium. The consequences of an overdose would be dire, he had to use other ways to make Raphael feel better. He had consulted doctors and was given advice, but advice was all he had gotten and Emilio angrily wondered why they could not just cure Raphael instead.

When the recommended time was up, he carried Raphael out of the tub, dried his body, cleaned his wound and wrapped him up in a thick blanket. In his delirious state, Raphael parted his pale lips and called his name repeatedly. Emilio responded every time and tried to reassure him.

He was here. He was not going anywhere.

Raphael would be all right. Raphael would not die.

Emilio held Raphael as they sat on the bed and he prayed, to this country’s god and to the one his father worshipped, that Raphael would pull through this. It was all his fault. If he had not spoken to Raphael five years ago, had not groomed him into such a splendid singer, the poor boy would not have to be castrated.

But hours passed and there was a limit to how much one could blame oneself. Raphael’s parents were at fault too, and Emilio decided not to give their son back to them. The most he would do was send a letter to let them know of the success of the surgery, but nothing more than that. He would not divulge the location of his home, so that they would never be able to find Raphael. They were undeserving to have Raphael as their son, and they could both die for all he cared.

Arms wrapping possessively around the boy who leaned against his chest and slept in distress, Emilio resolved to replace the useless parents and become a father to Raphael.

+++


	22. Emilio (part 2)

If Emilio thought that he saw a shadow of himself in Raphael, he was quickly proven wrong. For the first few days after Raphael’s recovery, he merely stayed in Emilio’s house without asking any questions. Emilio pampered him, gave him all his favourite food and had new clothes made for him. But the smiles on his face were not quite as cheerful as before, and his eyes in particular held an understanding of the hard truths when before there was only innocence. Finally, after a month had passed, he made a request. Raphael wanted to go home and see his parents.

His parents hugged him and cried once he arrived. Raphael reassured them that he was fine, the surgery was a success, and he would continue singing. The boy wore an expression too mature for his age, and he talked to his parents like an adult would to children. All this while, Emilio only watched from behind with hardened eyes, and he knew that Raphael too had a wall built around himself. But what was different was that Raphael had a gracious heart that, in a way, still loved his parents despite everything that had happened. Even though he kept an emotional distance, he still wanted to be their son, unlike Emilio who hardly ever contemplated going back to his father.

To his relief, Raphael chose to stay with him in town, so that he could learn more quickly and perform in more concerts.

“It has been a while since I sang solo,” Raphael said while studying a new stack of music scores. “A music festival is happening soon. Do you think I can get a chance if I attend the auditions?”

“Go for these two.” Emilio picked several sheets from the stack Raphael was holding. “These songs suit you more. Besides, the venues are larger for these two concerts. It is always better to have more people hear you sing.”

“Very well then.”

They rehearsed for the next few days. Raphael pushed himself to voice each ornament more clearly and use more force for louder passages. He worked hard while always looking like he was enjoying himself. It was no surprise that he passed the auditions with ease.

The boy never attempted to skip lessons or ask to play with improvisations again.

Emilio did not know what to think.

“We shall practice composition today,” he suggested when the last round of audition was over. It was a rare day on which he felt that it was acceptable to not practice the set pieces. The concert was two weeks away, there was enough time. Raphael had worked hard enough for the past few days and deserved a break.

No, Emilio shook his head. This was a lesson as well, so that Raphael would become a better musician. This was for his growth, so that his future would be more secure.

But Raphael only connected each phrase he played on the harpsicord with matching melodies. Their unplanned duet continued for a long time, with the teacher constantly giving challenges and the student tackling them with brilliant answers. Raphael remained completely serious throughout and did not play a fool.

Emilio lowered his eyes and focused on the harpsicord keys. The melody he played dipped in tone and became more melancholic, and Raphael matched it with soulful singing.

He knew it all along, that if Raphael did his best, he would be unrivalled even when pit against a privileged child musician. Raphael was a prodigy, and now that he was castrated, his potential as a singer only increased.  This growth was for the best, so that he would not be castrated for nothing.

Raphael was any teacher’s dream student, and he was developing into a perfect singing machine.

Emilio should feel nothing but pride.

+++

By the time Raphael turned fourteen, he was already richer than most men in the country, or he would be, if he did not build the large villa for his parents and send them money every month. Most of what he earned went to his parents, it was Raphael’s choice, and Emilio did not interfere.

The silly boy even once attempted to ‘pay for the lessons’. Emilio had stared at him with deadpanned eyes, until Raphael felt embarrassed and apologised.

“The best way to repay me…is to continue doing well as a singer.” He had said, and Raphael had nodded in response. He said he would not let Emilio down.

Unable to help himself, his hand found Raphael’s cheek and his thumb grazed tenderly over it. He wanted to tell Raphael so many other things, like how it was all right even if Raphael did not try so hard, or how, more than his success, he just wanted to see his carefree smiles. However, no words came out, which was no wonder since he seldom had practice in speaking his mind. For four years he had tried to be a father-figure, but did not know what to do other than provide Raphael with a warm bed, food and clothes. He did not know what else he should do, because he was never taught.

But when Raphael responded by leaning into his touch – an action that reflected a preserved piece of his childhood – Emilio thought that perhaps this was fine. Whatever he was doing might just be good enough.

To make Raphael happier, Emilio bought all sorts of gifts from time to time. He gave him toys that Raphael had been too poor to own when he was a child, and received a laugh in response. ‘I am too old for this!’ Raphael had argued, but cradled the toys against his chest like they were treasure. He bought flowers to decorate the room they shared, and though they were not there for long since the pollen irritated his nose, he earned yet more laughs whenever he sneezed.

He bought expensive shoes to dress Raphael’s feet, rings to adorn his fingers and a coat with real fur to keep him warm in winter. He spent on Raphael much more than he ever would on himself, and though it might not be sensible, the anticipation for Raphael’s response and the subsequent sense of fulfilment were addictive. Each time he did this, he felt more like a father and less like a teacher for Raphael.

“Please, do not buy me anymore gifts,” Raphael said, when he was presented with a miniature model of a horse carriage. Emilio looked worriedly at the gift he prepared.

“Do you dislike this?”

“No! It is beautiful! I just… I just do not want you to spend so much money on me.” Guilt layered over Raphael’s words as he continued. “I am indebted to you enough as it is.”

“Nonsense.”

His reply came out sounding harsher than he intended, and he felt a pang when he saw the bit of alarm in Raphael’s eyes. How should he correct himself though? He did not know.

“Just accept anything I give you.”

“…Yes. Thank you, Emilio.”

Raphael looked like he had more to say, so Emilio waited. And for the next few long minutes, the boy only stared at the floor and fidgeted.

“If you have something to say, say it quickly.” Again, it sounded worse than he liked, and it made Raphael flinch slightly.

“I…I just…M-More than gifts…” the voice diminished into something less than a whisper, and Emilio could not make out what Raphael was trying to say.

“Speak louder,” he prompted.

“I said! More than gifts, I want you to spend more time with me!”

The exclamation startled Emilio. His first thought was fear that Raphael had gotten angry at him, but then he replayed the words in his mind again and realised it was not so. Quite confused, he sought explanation.

“You know that I am busy with my own concerts.”

That did not come out sounding like a request for explanation at all. Had he always been such a hopeless idiot in choosing his words? Or did he become like this in the recent years? Now Raphael would think he was blaming him for not being understanding.

“I know… and I do not wish to hinder your career… but I miss your company.”

Raphael fiddled with the edge of his shirt as he spoke to the floor, and his face was glowing bright red. Not only did he not hold it against Emilio for sounding cold, he had reiterated his wish with pure honesty.

Emilio held up a hand and shielded his face.

“I made you feel lonely. I am sorry.”

“No! Y-you do not have to apologise at all! I am just being immature - ”

The next thing Emilio knew, he had pulled Raphael in an embrace and pressed the boy’s head against his shoulder. His body had acted independently, his mind was slower to catch on, and he only realised that he liked this sensation when Raphael sighed in his arms.

“Come with me next week,” Emilio said. “I have to make a short trip to the south. I heard the scenery there is beautiful. Rolling mountains, and cliffs by the waters.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Raphael said and grinned into his coat. “I cannot wait.”

+++

What exactly did people do when spending time together? Emilio sneaked a glance at Raphael, it was caught, and the boy beamed at him as he hurriedly looked away. They had walked together in silence upon alighting from the coach, and they were halfway down a winding path that passed shops and houses built precariously along this rocky side of the mountain. If this went on, they would reach the shore without a single word spoken, and though Emilio knew not what the ideal situation was, he was sure this was not what Raphael had in mind when he said he wanted to spend more time with Emilio.

It was easier in the past, because Raphael would drag him everywhere in the forest and force him to play games. All Emilio had to do was to go along with the child’s ideas. But this Raphael had grown up, his head was already reaching Emilio’s jaw, and he had become too considerate to force his teacher to do anything. The onus to initiate conversations fell on Emilio, and he had no idea what to talk about other than work and music.

What a boring man. No wonder the ladies did not fancy him despite his fame and wealth. Even Emilio was bored with himself, and he would not blame Raphael if he changed his mind and decided to go back home.

He sneaked another nervous glance to his right and hoped to not see disappointment on Raphael’s face. He ended up not seeing Raphael at all.

“Raphael?” he called and whirled around. Then he saw who he was looking for, standing on a piece of cardboard a short distance uphill.

“Here I come…huh? Woah!” Raphael shouted as he glided down the steep slope on the cardboard. It seemed he had kicked off with too much strength and had difficulty controlling his speed. He waved his arms around frantically and gestured for Emilio to get out of his way. “Move move move!”

“What are you doing?!” Emilio yelled in exasperation. He did not even have time to turn his head to check if it would be safe if he allowed Raphael to continue going downhill, instead, he dropped his suitcases and braced himself with open arms.

Raphael crashed clumsily into Emilio and the latter dug a foot behind him, straining to hold themselves steady. They then collapsed on their knees and Emilio panted from the scare.

“What were you thinking?!” he scolded without a second thought. “If you had lost your balance, you could have fallen off the cliff beside us!”

He had not raised his voice at Raphael in years, and he only did so because he was afraid. If Raphael really had an accident…Emilio could not bear to continue that train of thought. He had almost lost Raphael once, and that was already one time too many.

But perhaps he should have chided Raphael in a gentler way. The boy shook in his arms, and would not lift his head.

“Raphael…?”

“Pft! Hahahaha!”

Rolling away from Emilio’s embrace, Raphael laughed and settled in a sitting position with both hands supporting himself. Emilio looked on, dumbfounded.

“That was fun!” The young teenager exclaimed to the sky, and his eyes were reduced to slits as he grinned widely. “This place is so beautiful! I am so happy to be here with you!”

An indescribable surge of warmth overcame Emilio at that moment, and his heart raced from more than the scare earlier. He had always adored his little songbird, but this felt different, though he could not put a finger to it. Raphael seemed to sparkle, and the whole of Emilio’s being brimmed with fondness as he looked at him. He rushed forward, grabbed Raphael shoulders and planted a kiss on his forehead. It was usually something he did only when they were about to go to sleep, he did not understand why he felt the urge to do it in broad daylight.

Even Raphael seemed embarrassed by it, from his sudden silence and bowed head. Emilio quickly moved away and stood up.

“We must reach the shores before it becomes dark.”

They continued walking downhill. Emilio listened to Raphael’s footsteps as he walked, and twice, when the sound stopped, he caught the playful boy attempting another slide.

“Stop that. Throw that cardboard away,” he said sternly.

Raphael complied with a chuckle and Emilio resumed walking. He did not let it show that his heart still tingled from the warm feeling, and he worked to shut the ramblings in his noisy mind.

This must be how a parent felt towards his child. It must be.

+++

He had brought a change of clothes for both of them during the trip, so he lacked an excuse to keep Raphael from going into the sea. The shimmering waters beckoned, and its call was too strong to resist. Upon seeing its glory, Raphael had kicked off his shoes, shrugged off his coat and ran towards it at the fastest speed, ignoring all calls from Emilio to watch his steps.

Emilio sat on a large rock and watched over Raphael. At first, he worried if there were malicious sea creatures, or if the water level was too deep, but half an hour easily passed with no sign of danger. The waves were gentle too, and they lapped at the shores with soft murmurs. That, combined with the shimmering of light at the smooth water’s surface, made the scene extremely relaxing.

It would be great if they lived here, away from town, away from music. They could lead a simple life, just the two of them, and Emilio would care for Raphael and bring him out to play every day.

He snorted at his own daydream, amused by his own lack of growth. It had been nine years since he left home, and he was still thinking of escape.

“Emilio, look! I found a large seashell!”

Raphael stood knee deep in the water and waved what he found in the air. Unfortunately for him, it was not an empty shell. Its occupant poked its head out to see what the ruckus was about; its slimy appearance shocked Raphael and he flung it far away with a yelp.

Emilio doubled over and laughed so hard tears entered his eyes. As if to make him laugh even harder, Raphael picked up another shell and replayed that scene. The little creatures eventually stopped surprising Raphael, so he gathered them using the front of his shirt, and he waded back on shore to display his frightening collection to Emilio.

“No, keep them away from me,” Emilio warned and held up his hands defensively. He was not afraid; the thought of coming into contact with them just disgusted him.

He was definitely not afraid, though he ran a short distance when Raphael threatened to approach.

With a delighted laugh, Raphael eventually sent those creatures back home, much to Emilio’s relief. The hour was getting late and it was about time they showed up at their host’s house. The next day, Emilio would have to travel to the town nearby for a concert, this was just a temporary stop on the way. He felt sorry for Raphael because he seemed to be having so much fun, but it was time to get changed. He could not possibly let Raphael present himself with his shirt stained by the sticky slime those creatures left behind.

“Here are your clothes.”

“Thanks!”

Some articles of clothing were jumbled when Emilio took out Raphael’s clothes, so he folded them once more and tried to squeeze them back into the suitcase. It was curious how the suitcase seemed to have expanded despite containing fewer items; it took some effort before Emilio could squeeze it shut, and when things were finally back in order, he then realised his stupidity – he had forgotten about Raphael’s soiled clothes.

“Raph – ”

The brief call that left his lips travelled less than a metre and it was followed by an inaudible gasp. There was no one else in this remote area, so Raphael had unabashedly taken off all his clothes. He sat on a rock, his naked back diagonally facing Emilio. He did not hear Emilio’s call, neither did he know how the man looked at him.

Blue eyes traced the water droplets that trickled from Raphael’s hair to the nape of his neck, then down the sensual lines of his shoulder blades to the small of his back. The gaze shifted to the sides of the thighs, and then further as Raphael slipped on his socks, pulled it up inch by inch and tied it under his knee. He then bent over to do the same for the other leg and as he did so, his slender back stretched to accommodate the movement.

That height, that pale smooth skin and those soft curves. They were no different from a woman’s.

No, Raphael was more attractive than women.

Raphael was more _seductive._

Emilio backed away when he realised what he was thinking, and he looked down in alarm. His heart hammered in his chest and sweat coated his forehead. Not only was it unnatural, what he thought about Raphael in that instant, it was impure and immoral.

“Emilio?”

The innocent call made him wrought with fear and guilt. Too afraid to look Raphael in the eye, he continued backing away, and did not stop even when he almost tripped over a stray rock.

“Emilio, where are you going?”

His mind screamed confusion, and the calm atmosphere around him had turned oppressive with its questioning silence.

Did he not wish to be a father-figure for Raphael? The passing wind asked. No father would look at his son this way.

“No,” Emilio whispered, and he shut out the accusing voices with hands over his ears. But he still heard Raphael calling sweetly for him, saw him smiling shyly at him, and he realised how much he wanted to reach out and do _things_ to him. He realised how difficult it was to suppress those terrible thoughts, and how they spread like a disease upon awakening, until they fully consumed his mind and made him excited beyond belief.

“Emilio?”

“Wait here.”

Without explaining, he scrambled away and hid.

+++


	23. Emilio (part 3)

Raphael was becoming more beautiful by the day.

They were at a meadow where large flowers bloomed. The sounds of birds chirping could be heard, blending with the humming wind. The colours around them were saturated under the clear blue sky, so vibrant they almost hurt the eyes. Dew clung to petals and leaves, and the field shimmered as light bounced off the little crystals. Then slowly, the droplets began floating, and they captured miniature rainbows in their ascent, until they became shining stars in the daylight.

Bathed in those tiny globe of lights, Raphael stood with his eyes closed. His lips parted like he was singing, but no sound came forth. His features were turning more defined as his face became sharper, and his gentle expression radiated frailty. Emilio took a step forward, wanting to brush past the sparkles and reach Raphael, but he suddenly felt confused. Raphael looked different.

He, no, _she_ stood before him, wearing a stunning white gown that contrasted with all the vivid colours that surrounded him. Her lips were cherry red and her skin held the glow of youth. The dress was of a contemporary off-shoulder design. It revealed her slender neck, the gentle slope of her collarbones as well as her narrow shoulders. Emilio stared at the beauty before him, forgetting to breathe, and his eyes did not know which alluring feature to focus on, until she stopped singing and opened her eyes to look at him.

“Emilio.”

A sweet voice, a loving smile, and she hurried over to pour herself into Emilio’s arms. He accepted her embrace without knowing what to do or where to place his hands. All he could sense was the incredible warmth and softness of her body, and any semblance of thought melted away when she tilted her head upwards and captured his soul with her glistening eyes.

His palm found and caressed her face, and her eyelids slid back shut. The wind stopped blowing, the birds stopped chirping, and the colours around them faded away along with the feeble globes of light, until there was nothing left but the two of them.

He yearned to feel more of that warmth. He needed it, so that he could feel his heart beating and know that, despite all that the world expected of him, he was only human.

He leaned in and kissed Raphael.

On her, no, on _his_ lips.

+++

Emilio buried his face into his hands and breathed heavily, but even that was not enough to calm him down. He moved out of bed, swayed from the dizziness, and opened the windows to let in the winter night air. The cold bit into his skin, but he welcomed the pain for it made him awake enough to think.

What was different? He had seen Raphael naked countless times. Back when Raphael was still a child, when he played in the forest and got dirt all over, it was Emilio who insisted to scrub his body clean. Then after the surgery, it was Emilio who bathed him and tended to the wound at the boy’s most private part. Things had been normal then, yet it suddenly spun out of control just because of that one time he saw Raphael naked by the shore.

To make matters worse, those dreams were becoming more frequent. Each time he allowed his eyes to stray and admire Raphael, he was punished with dreams which were sometimes pure and relatively harmless, like the one he just had, and sometimes provocative and dangerous.

Emilio willed himself not to recall the details of the horrifying things he did to his dearest Raphael in his darkest dreams.

He could not forgive himself for allowing those dreams to invade his mind, so he stood in the cold until his teeth chattered and his skin froze, and only then did he close the windows and retreat to ponder for the rest of the sleepless night.

It was a common knowledge among people that there were different forms of love. Emilio had tried, over the past few weeks, to categorise how he felt towards the people around him, but he was not successful. He came to realise that the only person he loved was Raphael, and that love was a combination of many of those types mentioned by people, so mixed that perhaps it did not belong to the list.

He soon concluded to his despair that nothing could justify his growing lust towards Raphael. It was inexcusable precisely because he loved Raphael, for if he truly loved the boy, he would not lead him astray. He would raise him to be a proper man, and give his blessings when he found a woman to love.

Raphael was still so young.

Whereas Emilio was so much older.

Their age gap, their gender, and their relationship as teacher and student meant that it was impossible for them to be together. Emilio knew that, and for many wakeful nights, he repeated these thoughts to himself as if reciting a mantra. It became his way of putting on his armour, so that he could face Raphael every single day and listen to his own name being called as sweetly as in his dreams without succumbing to his desires.

It was torturous.

+++

At home, he maintained stoicism out of fear that any leak of his true emotion would destroy his relationship with Raphael. It took plenty of effort, and heartache every time he saw disappointment in Raphael’s eyes, but he did not give in. Raphael wanted to hug, to sleep in the same room with him, to be close to him, but Emilio could not allow himself to have it. He simply could not, even if he too wanted it.

On the other hand, for some unfathomable reasons, his music soared in popularity. To him, his slips were careless mistakes, but to the listeners, they were delicate expressions that showed his sensitivity to the music. There was less calculation, and the tension present in his music boldly presented a struggle that bordered on insanity. Without knowing, his body also became more expressive as he played, and women swooned at the intense look on his face.

Eventually, marriage proposals started coming in. An earl offered his daughter, a famous conductor offered his sister, and the list went on.

Emilio sighed as he stared blankly at the letters, all requesting that he put thought to their offer and respond in kind. He ran a hand through his hair and pushed the letters out of his sight, then he contemplated tearing them up and pretending he never received them. It was a chore to reject everyone politely, without damaging their ego so that their relationship could remain amiable.

He would have to make up flowery praises of the women’s beauty, and then express artificial lament on how he did not deserve them. That would in turn invite more letters arguing that he thought too lowly of himself, to which he had to then convince that there were other reasons not in his control. Even that would result in an insistence of at least one meeting, to determine if those random reasons were true.

Weaving his fingers together and using them to support his forehead, Emilio wondered if there was a faster way to deal with the problem. He sneaked a side glance at the topmost letter of the unruly pile and studied the name.

Lady Amaretto, daughter of Earl Porfirus. She was of the highest status among all the ladies. If he announced that he was courting her, the rest would surely give up on their own accord.

“Emilio?”

The voice pulled him from his plotting, and he hurriedly shoved the letters into a drawer.

“Yes, Raphael?”

His student opened the door and entered only after he received approval, and he stopped a respectful distance from the desk that separated them. He carried a stack of music scores with him and wore a nervous smile.

“I have been practising this piece on my own when you were not around. I-If you are unoccupied, may I perform it for you?”

“Of course,” Emilio replied by reflex. He always indulged Raphael to the best of his ability, and he promised himself that this would never change.

Raphael brightened up and his smile broadened into an elated grin. He skipped to the side of the room to bring forth a music stand, dropped some sheets of paper in his hurry, and clumsily gathered them before readying himself in the centre of the room. Then as if he could not wait to begin, he parted his lips and let the song burst forth.

Soft notes joined to form a delicate melody, and it was filled with understated joy and contentment. The music swelled with passion, and the prolonged notes stretched in a gentle tremolo, reluctant to fade. It was a serenade. The kind that lovers sang to each other.

Emilio swallowed as he listened, and he felt chained to his seat with no escape. Raphael looked right at him as he sang, and his eyes brimmed with the adoration expressed in the song. He could not look away, neither could he close his ears to Raphael’s declaration of love.

The song soon ended, and Emilio had failed to find a single mistake. He had not been able to concentrate at all.

“How was it?” Raphael asked and scratched his cheek. “I appreciate any guidance you may give.”

Guidance? Advice? Who was he to give such things, when he needed them himself?

Emilio pushed off his chair and stood up. He needed to leave the room and get far away, but his legs did not move. Head bowed, he did not realise that Raphael had walked closer to him, until he entered his peripheral vision.

“Emilio,” Raphael stood opposite the desk, fiddling with the ends of his shirt. “I-It is fine if you have no comments. Thank you for listening. I shall not disturb you any longer.”

“Wait.”

The word left his mouth before he could think, and nothing else followed. Raphael was wrong, he had plenty to say, and he would never think of him as disturbance. He wanted to know if that song expressed personal feelings. He wanted to know if Raphael felt just as strongly as he did for him.

The student waited obediently, and Emilio hoped for a few more minutes to gather his courage and dispel his fears. A little more time to convince himself that it was forgivable to have hope. But alas, seconds trickled away mercilessly, his sense of responsibility won over his selfishness, and Raphael grew impatient.

“Can I,” the boy said uncertainly. “Can I…please…give you a hug?”

He could not.

He had to protect Raphael. Had to love him. Had to stop himself.

“No.”

The flat refusal struck Raphael hard. He flinched visibly and hid his eyes under his fringe.

“I am sorry for making such a wilful request,” he mumbled under his breath, clutched the music sheets hard and left the room.

Emilio watched him go without another attempt to stop him, then he slumped back into his chair and stared at the darkness beneath his desk. Again, he had hurt Raphael.

He wondered when these feelings would go away and when he would be able to revert to the way they used to be.

Was it never? Was he doomed to yearn for Raphael hopelessly forever?

It could not be. Surely he was feeling this way because he was deprived of romance in his life. If he had a woman by his side, someone else he could care for, then perhaps he would be able to see Raphael like a son again.

Completely cold, his hand pulled open the drawer and retrieved the letter.

+++

She was a witty and charming lady. They met and chatted. They went out together. Weeks passed and they did what was natural to couples; kissing, touching and going to bed. But though their bodies connected, their hearts did not. Lady Amaretto had a wide selection of men vying for her affections, and she took her time taking her pick. Emilio was just one of many, though he had the honour of monopolising more of her time than the rest. Her father, the Earl, liked him and was hoping that he would put a stop to his daughter’s amorous adventures with the various men. Talks of marriage grew more serious, and Lady Amaretto became less hesitant.

For the first time in many days, Emilio reached home before sunset. Raphael greeted him with usual cheer and shared about what he had learned from other teachers in his absence. They looked at music scores and decided which songs to perform next.

Emilio never told Raphael about Lady Amaretto. The time was never right, and he never found the right words.

After dinner, they began their formal lesson. The teacher sat before the harpsichord accompanied by his student, just like old times. Perhaps it was because Emilio came back home early, Raphael was happier than usual and, carried away in his joy, he requested to have a lesson on composition. Emilio did not refuse. He had been spending too little time with Raphael, so this was his way of making up for it.

But their melodies were discordant that day, and even though the way the melody flowed was technically correct, Emilio’s playing and Raphael’s singing did not match. Frustrated, Emilio stopped the practice and reversed it, so that he answered Raphael’s melody instead, but still it did not go well. The singing pushed, the harpsichord did not yield, and the music that was created clashed messily.

“This is enough for today,” Emilio said and shifted away from Raphael. His student had become oddly silent, and he thought it was best to end the lesson before things became even more awkward. “It is time for you to rest.”

“No!”

Raphael’s cry startled Emilio, and he wondered if he had yet again brought hurt to his student.

“I can do this better, Emilio. Let me try again.”

A reckless melody spilled from Raphael’s lips and it continued into a long phrase that screamed of desperation. The young singer sang till music drained him of energy and breath; the last note died away weakly and was not of the standard expected of the castrato. Emilio did not continue, he knew Raphael was tired. He was tired as well. Unbelievably tired.

“Good night, Raphael.”

“Emilio…!”

He was about to stand and leave when Raphael lurched towards him and crushed him in an embrace. Alert at once, Emilio worked to push him away, all the while inwardly yelling at his pulse to stop accelerating. It happened too suddenly, he could not avoid it and he did not know how to deal with it. All he knew was how much effort he had expended to keep himself from yearning for Raphael, and how he must not let it go to waste.

“Raphael, let go.”

“You are seldom home. I missed you.”

“Let go now, Raphael.”

“Will you please be home more? Can we have more lessons? I am sorry. I am too wilful. I am sorry.”

The incessant apologies were muttered against his chest, and they stabbed right into Emilio’s heart. It was not even Raphael’s fault. Emilio was fully the one to be blamed.

His arms lost strength and dropped to his sides. He could no longer bear to push Raphael away, but he could not return the embrace either, so he only waited until the boy calmed down on his own. Images of Lady Amaretto briefly flashed in his mind, and she seemed so insignificant, even though she was the one he was to marry. In comparison, Raphael was more…

“I am sorry I lost my composure.” Raphael apologised with a weak smile as he pulled himself away. “Good night, Emilio.”

Emilio stayed in the music room for hours after Raphael left. He did not return to his own room, for he feared that dreams would assault and desires would once again plague him. Aside from that, he also needed to reflect on his actions. He brainstormed for ways to make up for the recent neglect of his student, and he wondered what he could give.

Raphael’s birthday was coming soon. He was growing taller; his limbs were longer and he needed more space.

Pain wracked his head as an idea entered, and he decided on it out of pure fatigue.

He would have a new harpsichord made for Raphael.

+++

The date was decided on the day of his friend’s wedding, which happened to fall on Raphael’s birthday. Double the happiness, they said, and the Earl had announced proudly to those who were present that his daughter would be wed to a distinguished musician in three months. There was lament that the wait had to be this long, but it could not be helped as Emilio had already agreed to perform in another country.

Emilio considered the month of travel to be god-sent. He could be away from everything; the stress of the impending wedding and the fearsome temptation that was Raphael. With nothing holding him back, he focused only on his music and poured his entire being into it. But sometimes, he still dreamt. Sweet Raphael calling his name, asking to spend more time with him. Beautiful Raphael taking off his clothes before him. Sometimes he was a boy, sometimes a girl. Emilio no longer knew which kinds of dreams were worse, but at least, he did not have to wake to confront the very subject of his desires during his travels.

That did not change the fact that he missed Raphael dearly. In the day, he wrote letters back home, poorly worded ones that gave only updates and some well wishes. Whenever he passed by a shop, he contemplated getting something for him as souvenir. He watched concerts and held performances all while wishing Raphael was with him. And so it was with great delight that he returned home after being away for so long.

Raphael hugged him with tears in his eyes, and Emilio allowed himself to reciprocate. This was the longest they had been apart, and neither could hold back their happiness of seeing each other again. They talked at lengths about Emilio’s travels as Raphael unwrapped the countless little gifts. It was then that a messenger came along with great news; Raphael had an opportunity to take part in an opera. They agreed immediately, and Emilio stayed at home for the next few days to spend more time with Raphael.

He forgot about Lady Amaretto, and he did not suffer from the condemning dreams. Those few days were a glimpse of hope for Emilio, that things could become simple and good again, just like in the past.

+++

On the day of the performance, he promised to be there to support Raphael’s debut in an opera. The proud teacher sent his student off to the rehearsals before returning to dress up and get ready for the event. He left the house earlier than necessary, his steps were light as he walked down the streets and he could not wait to hear his songbird sing.

A sudden cry for help drew his attention to gates of a familiar house. It belonged to his friend, who was struggling to support his wife in an upright position. The woman’s face was pale and the bottom of her dress was red.

“You have to help me,” the man begged, completely livid.

Emilio did not have to be told twice. As much as he wanted to hear Raphael sing, saving a life was more important. He accompanied them to a doctor’s place, and unable to leave his distraught friend alone, he waited along through the risky labour.

By the time the baby’s cries mixed with the parents’ laughter, Emilio had already missed the opera.

Despite wearing a fine outfit, he dashed down the roads, hopped out of the way of moving horse carriages, and pushed against the exiting crowd to enter the theatre. He had let Raphael down, had not been a good teacher. But instead of swallowing his words, this time he would be honest. He would sincerely apologise for his tardiness and tell Raphael how much he wanted to watch his maiden performance. He would let Raphael know how much he meant to him, and that he would not forget or neglect him even after he got married.

That was right, he had not even told Raphael about Lady Amaretto yet. Perhaps it was time, he thought, and he would break it to Raphael as gently as he could.

“Emilio!” came the elated greeting right after the door burst open.

“Sorry I am too late,” Emilio said. “My friend’s wife was in labour and –”

The words caught in his throat along with his breath when his eyes rested on the person before him.

This was a dream. It was another one of his crazy dreams of Raphael wearing a dress.

“Do I not look stunning?”

Raphael spoke but Emilio did not listen. He merely stood there, panting from his run and wondering how a dream could be so real, until he finally came to terms that this was reality and he needed to get a hold of himself.

“I am sorry I missed your performance.”

Gone were the other words he had wanted to say. His throat was parched and his heart refused to slow. Yes, he reminded himself, Raphael had to take the role of a woman in this opera, and that was why he was wearing the dress. That was why he looked so achingly beautiful.

“I think I did well today,” Raphael said as he pulled his teacher into the room. “The crowd clapped and cheered after our part, and they also laughed when we fell down as scripted. It was my first time performing a comedy, and it was so much fun!”

Desperate to cling onto any chances to escape, Emilio followed Raphael’s lead and focused on work.

“I reckon you pulled off those four difficult passages?”

“Without a hitch!”

“I am glad for you. Now, get changed and let us be on our way.”

Cold sweat dripped from Emilio’s forehead as they entered the room and closed the door. As long as Raphael changed out of the dress, he told himself, things would get easier. There was still hope, he could still deny the part of him that threatened to turn wild, and they could go back to being a happy pair of teacher and student.

He did not expect it to be his downfall.

“I was told to leave my dress here. The problem is, I cannot reach the ribbons at the back. Can you help me to undo them?”

Silence reigned. Then Raphael broke it by explaining why he could not undo his dress on his own, but still Emilio heard nothing except the chaotic debate in his head. In the end it was reflex, the ingrained desire to indulge Raphael, that took over.

“…Certainly.”

He hardly felt his legs as he moved closer. His fingers too went numb as they worked clumsily on the ribbons. The heated debate in his mind transformed into piercing ringing, and he had to gasp for air to focus on getting this task over and done with so they could go home and he could retreat to the safety of his room. He tugged hard at the ribbons in hopes to speed up the agonising process, and he tried not to look at the pale skin that peeked from the widening gaps.

All of a sudden, Raphael yanked the dress downwards in impatience. The square neckline of the dress spread into a horizontal line before getting stuck, exposing the tantalising curves of the young man’s shoulders. It was just like in his dreams. It was the ultimate fulfilment of his deepest fantasies.

“Emilio? Can you loosen the ribbons more? Just take them all off.”

“….Raphael…”

He warned, grabbed hold of the ribbons and gave a rough tug to force Raphael to face the front, so that he would not see the wreckage Emilio had become. But it was no use.  
Months of hard work. Responsibilities. Convictions. Regrets. Memories.  
They crumbled as Emilio’s fingers slowed, and all that was left was the hungry monster that he had kept starving for too long.

He leaned forward, craving feverishly for contact, and allowed the tip of his nose to touch Raphael’s back.

What happened next was a blur. Raphael escaped his clutches and looked warily at him. He asked for a chance, because he loved his little songbird so much. Was there a reply? He was not sure. The next thing he knew, he had Raphael in his arms just the way he wanted. His hands roamed the smooth back, he took in Raphael’s scent, and he wanted nothing but to pamper Raphael and make him feel good.

He stroked Raphael’s hair, felt the strands slip between his fingers, and did his best to soothe his student. He tried to hold on to the last shred of self-restraint, but it was useless. Raphael’s moan tempted him, and his hands moved to more dangerous places. Then without warning, that last shred of control in him snapped.

He lifted Raphael’s chin and plunged to claim his lips.

Their first kiss was a peck, and there was only despair.   
He tried a few more kisses and they made him sink deeper.  
By the fifth try, he could only focus on the feeling of those pliant, moist lips against his own.

It was over, he knew when Raphael pulled away in fear. They could never return to how they used to be.


	24. Emilio (part 4)

He should not have run away.

A terrible scream echoed in the theatre, so fearful and agonised that for a second Emilio did not realise it belonged to Raphael.

He had no right to feel ashamed of his own actions.

Footsteps thundered down the hallways as Emilio ran, desperately calling out to Raphael. But still the screams continued, and they only sounded more broken as he neared.

He should not have left Raphael alone in the room, especially not in that undressed state.

Another voice could be heard then, one that Emilio did not recognise. And in between savage grunts, the voice insisted that Raphael must be a girl, for no boy could look this perfect in a dress. No boy could have a hole that felt this good.

He should have protected Raphael.

The door slammed open as Emilio charged in, and the sight before him chilled his very bones. He saw, with eyes he wanted to claw out, the boy on his knees and wearing nothing but remnants of the torn dress clinging to his waist.  His precious Raphael was crying, screaming and _bleeding_ from the vulgar thrusts that violated his thin body.

The rest happened in a blur. Emilio did not hear himself yell, and he only vaguely felt the impact as his knuckles crashed into jaws. Blind rage overtook his entire body, and he saw not the stranger’s face nor register how many punches he threw at it. All he knew was that he had to kill this man, had to make this wretched beast taste the most painful death for hurting his songbird.

“No…stop…Emilio!”

The punches stopped in accordance to the boy’s plea and senses slowly returned to the enraged man. In that pause, the stranger held his bloodied face and scrambled away, but Emilio did nothing to stop the pervert. His attention was brought back to the one who mattered most, to poor Raphael who lay stunned and choking on his own sobs.

Wasting no time, Emilio took off the coat he wore and draped it over his student. He wanted to do more, like pull him into a hug, but his slightest touch only caused a violent flinch.

“I am a man,” came the soft declaration.

As if reminded by himself, Raphael fumbled with the laces and frills and peeled them off. Then he stared hard at the ripped dress. His clenched fists slammed on the fabric and his shoulders shook.

“I am a man!” he shouted fiercely, and it escalated into an unbridled hateful scream.

“Raphael,” Emilio whispered, not knowing what else to do. He never wanted this to happen, yet it was all his fault. His mistake, his single loss of control, had caused irreparable damage and there was nothing he could do but listen to Raphael’s mad screams and face the consequences of his actions. He cried as he uttered promises in a futile attempt to give comfort. This would never happen again. Raphael would never take another female role. He would never make Raphael wear a dress again.

When the voice Emilio loved was screamed raw, he took the weakened boy into his arms and carried him home. His own tears dried as he trudged on, and he was resigned to the fact that he would never, in his entire life, forgive himself.

For days, Raphael neither spoke nor sang.

+++

A new mansion, a butler and servants - these were what Raphael accepted without questions. A line was drawn between them, one that stated clearly their relationship as teacher and student, as Emilio declared that he would, from then on, only visit to conduct lessons. In order to prevent Raphael from feeling lonely, Emilio arranged for people whom he trusted to visit.

The man then cancelled his wedding. A part of the reason was that he could not bring himself to marry one he did not truly love, but another was his guilt that demanded he spend the rest of his life in repayment. The Earl was most displeased, but Lady Amaretto on the other hand was understanding, even relieved. It turned out that she was not as ready to settle down as she thought. Promising Emilio that she would calm her father, she pressed a kiss on the man’s lips and graciously accepted his departure from her life.

Life became simpler for Emilio as he worked single-mindedly to promote Raphael’s singing, even at the expense of his own opportunities. Under his tutelage, the castrato’s popularity soared and offers of concerts and operas poured in. By then, the boy had turned into a young man, grew taller than his teacher, and became more handsome. His visitors grew numerous, a wild assortment of men and women of varying ages, and they all vied for his attention.

Emilio was not surprised when Raphael began sleeping with one of them. It was normal, he told himself, for any man his age would be interested to explore his sexuality. Raphael might be castrated, but passion was never just of physical making. He ought to congratulate Raphael if he indeed found someone he loved, even if it hurt.

However that day never came, and Raphael only slept with more of his visitors. It became of concern to Emilio, as the side of him that was used to being the boy’s guardian wanted to warn the youth against such frivolous behaviour. But who was he to preach? What right did he have?

Weighed by worries he could not resolve, Emilio walked slower than usual to Raphael’s mansion.

“I was wondering if you would ever show up.”

Sitting on the chair with legs crossed, Raphael shone a smile as Emilio stepped into the music room. The young man’s countenance spoke of calm and the usual cheer, but it also held more haughtiness.

“My apologies. Let us begin with your vocal warm-up.”

The lesson went on as both teacher and student did their best. The castrato was getting better at composing his own songs, so there was no more need to practise improvisations. Pitch, tone, breathing techniques and facial expressions; Emilio focused on the technicalities to help his student improve further. He would stand for nothing short of perfection, and only ended the lesson when he was satisfied with the improvements.

“That is all for today.”

“No, wait,” Raphael said, half begging, half bragging. “I can do more than this. My stamina has improved.”

“You need to rest. Besides, I have other students to teach.”

Without waiting for a reply, Emilio picked up his bag and walked to the door, but longer arms grabbed him from behind and stopped him from leaving.

“Emilio, I am no longer a child.”

The statement came from nowhere and thus, bewildered, Emilio turned to look at Raphael. He was taken aback by the darkness that dwelled in eyes that were once innocent and bright.

“You must know by now. I have gained experience in,” he paused, his hands gestured meaninglessly and an empty chuckle escaped before he continued, “ _those_ matters.”

“Am I supposed to praise you now?”

“You could.”

Emilio gritted his teeth as unexplained anger welled up in him.

“I never thought you are the kind to - ”

“I know,” Raphael interrupted in a dead tone. “Especially after I was violated, right?”

“…That was not what I - ”

“But you are wrong, Emilio. In my room, _I_ take control.”

The arms released their hold, and they stood face to face. Despite the hint of pride in Raphael’s words earlier, the young man himself was not smiling. And that was when Emilio was reminded, once again, of the damage that he had done.

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked, drained of energy. “What do you want?”

“I want to kiss you.”

Emilio winced at the bold request, and he dared not look at Raphael.

“No.”

“It will not hurt. We have kissed before, remember?”

This punishment was too much for Emilio to take. The breaths he took became gasps. Raphael’s words might have well have strangled him.

But what really killed him was what happened next. As the tall youth leaned closer, the darkness, the confidence and the pride all melted away. In that split second before the kiss, Raphael went back to being the insecure boy who loved his teacher.

Their lips touched tenderly, painfully, and Emilio dared not reciprocate. He stood like a statue, lungs bursting from held breath, and lips quivering as he endured through the kiss and the horrible memories associated with it.

Raphael looked dazed and unfulfilled when they parted. Emilio said nothing and left.

+++

There was too much that could not be explained, like how their relationship changed, how the one-sided kiss became a habit, why Raphael slept around and why Emilio avoided him. Their years spent together included beautiful moments, but too much had happened for the colours in the memories to retain. They were just grasping at straws, clumsily seeking hope and redemption with neither being successful. It was an impasse and they were stuck.

That was why, when Gabriel appeared, Emilio thought the refreshing young man could bring an end to their ill-fated relationship. He knew Raphael must have felt the same. Seeing his student’s face light up genuinely again convinced Emilio that it was time to let go. He intended to slowly distance from Raphael and eventually leave the country, for the castrato was becoming too good to have a mediocre teacher like himself. He thought it was time to set his songbird free.

But the heavens would not even grant them a peaceful farewell.

Raphael was to perform as Princess Ina.

“You promised me, Emilio. You said you would never do this to me.”

“Raph – “

“I am a man!” Raphael bellowed. “I may be castrated, but I am a man! And I will never wear a dress ever again, especially not in front of you!”

It was the accusation that Raphael spent years holding back and which Emilio spent years waiting to hear. It sliced deep into the older man and severed any lingering hope that he might be forgiven. And he deserved it, he thought as he stepped out of the mansion that day. He deserved it for being powerless and unable to save Raphael from taking on another female role.

Gabriel’s visit the next day could not be timelier, for it allowed Emilio to verify the young man’s feelings towards Raphael. Compared to himself, Gabriel was much better suited to protect Raphael because he possessed courage and positivity - both qualities that Emilio lacked. This young man could do what he never could. Gabriel could take Raphael and run away.

But still the rational side of him did not rest easy. He had to ensure that Raphael’s sacrifice would be worth it in the event that the castrato could not escape his role. To do that, he had to seek help from someone with a higher social status than himself and the maestro William Macmillan.

The only person he could think of was Lady Amaretto.

“To what do I owe this visit?”

The charming lady leaned against the doorway and held her arms; a defensive gesture despite the gentle smile on her face.

“I,” Emilio began, but could not continue without dropping his head in shame. “I have a favour to ask, my lady.”

A terse silence followed as the lady evaluated the man before her.

“Four years, and this is the first thing you say to me?”

“I apologise, but I am desperately in need of your help.”

She nodded, slowly at first and then more enthusiastically as she began to chuckle. Her eyes twinkled as she observed Emilio, and by then she was laughing hard enough to warrant a hand over her mouth.

“You selfish man.”

She took a step forward, unfolded her arms and gave the man a hug.

“Selfish, tactless, honest,” she said, and planted a kiss on his cheek. “How I missed you, Emilio.”

Lady Amaretto looked not a day older than when they last met, but as they sat and shared about their four years apart in vague details, Emilio learned how circumstances have made the woman wiser. She remained unmarried, still had unsteady relationships, but she appeared more certain of what she wanted in life. Unlike most ladies who flocked into the arms of rich men, she remained dignified and made people flock to her. Her social connections alone could make her richer than her own father. Emilio had to hand it to the powerful woman.

“Let me guess, this is about Raphael Armento,” she said after setting down her tea cup.

“You are well-informed.”

“You are most obvious.” A brief chuckle, and then more seriousness. “So what can I do for you, my darling?”

He explained the situation to her as best as he could, despite the fact that he was not good with words. The lady was patient and she filled in gaps with prompts to encourage Emilio to carry on. The only part Emilio did not reveal was how Raphael had this phobia of dressing as a girl in the first place, but the lady was clever enough to guess.

She looked carefully at Emilio before gently breaking it to him.

“It will be unwise to go against Maestro Macmillan at this point of time. That man is at the peak of his career and he is shrewd enough to make full use of it. Defying him openly would only destroy Raphael’s career.”

Emilio’s hands became fists.

“That is why I have come to you, Amaretto, to make full use of Macmillan’s plot. The opera house is large and could house many. If one among them is distinguished enough…” he trailed off, finding his own request too heavy to be spoken.

But it did not daunt the lady.

“More distinguished than myself and my father,” she elaborated on behalf of the man. “So that he could steal the castrato-in-distress from the clutches of the evil Macmillan.”

Her exaggerated disgust at the end of her statement lightened the atmosphere and made Emilio feel less guilty. He nodded with a quiet laugh.

“Yes…yes, that was what I had in mind.”

“I have a meeting with a certain prince in three days,” she said, eyes shining with warmth for Emilio. “I will be sure to sing plentiful praises of Raphael’s angelic voice and beg to be taken to the opera.”

“For which he goes in secret.”

“We cannot have Macmillan alarmed before we pull the carpet from beneath his feet, can we?”

They shared another laugh, and truly Emilio had not felt this thankful to another in years. He picked up Amaretto’s hand and placed a polite kiss on the back.

“I do not know how to repay you, my lady.”

“Well _I_ know. You can lend Raphael to me for a day or two.”

Emilio blanched at the suggestion. He dropped the hand, and tried to find hints that the lady was jesting, but there was only the ever-genuine smile. Worries swarmed his head at once, for he knew that Amaretto was as dangerous as she was powerful. She had the ability to make mature men fall for her, do things for her and then severe their relationship with only the men getting hurt.

“That boy is young and beautiful,” she was saying, with a completely straight face. “I have been planning to invite him over one of these days, to witness for myself his... stamina. In singing, of course.”

She laughed, and Emilio became paler.

“Anything but Raphael,” he said at last in a low whisper. “I beg you.”

The tea set rattled as the lady slammed her hand on the table. The extreme reaction shocked Emilio, and he feared that he had enraged the lady, until he looked up. Lady Amaretto was laughing so hard no sound escaped her lips, save for a loud inhalation at the end to stop herself.

“What should I do?” she asked and wiped a tear that leaked from her eyes. “My poor deprived self would be without company for a day! I suppose I have to settle for less. Oh, woe is me!”

Her dramatic sigh and subsequent hopeful gaze were the only hints. Not an idiot, Emilio took up her offer.

“Please allow me to escort you around town one of these days.”

“Only one?” she prompted with a pout, and Emilio quickly corrected himself.

“As many as you wish.”

Amaretto gave a contented smile, one that Emilio was revering by then. He could not believe that was all the lady wanted. He was a man who broke his promise to marry her, a wretched man she had not met in years, and yet she was willing to do this huge favour while asking for practically nothing in return. She had accepted him into her life again without bearing any grudges.

No wonder she was loved by so many. No wonder she became this powerful.

+++

“My father is looking forward to your upcoming concert,” Amaretto said with a hiccup. “He still curses when we speak about you, but I know he secretly went to your concerts. Too proud to admit he is still in love with your music.”

A misstep caused her to stumble, but Emilio caught her before she fell, and they walked arm in arm thereafter.

“You drank too much.”

“I seldom get the chance.”

“Even though men clamoured for your affections?”

“Oh they are different. _You_ are different. I can trust you to carry me home safely even if I became unconscious.”

It was the third evening they spent together. Though it was tiring to keep up with the lady’s youthful spirit, Emilio enjoyed this respite from the all the troubles plaguing his mind. The intelligent lady kept him entertained with discussions on the world of music, and she also advised Emilio to advance his own career instead of throwing it all away because of Raphael.

She was the best company Emilio ever had, the only person whom he could speak freely with, and he could not help thinking that perhaps he had made a mistake in cancelling his marriage with this wonderful lady.

“You are so nice to me,” she said when they reached where she stayed. “Thank you for this evening.”

“The pleasure is mine,” Emilio said with a smile, and he reached up to adjust the extravagant hat she wore. “Sweet dreams, my lady.”

“Would you not come in?”

The invitation took him by surprise, and despite his earlier regrets over their cancelled marriage, he found himself growing cold.

“Do you not miss me?” she asked, eyes glazed and feet unsteady. “We could go back to how we used to be.”

In that moment, all of Raphael assaulted his mind. He saw again, the little boy humming to himself in the middle of the field, the young boy who ran away from lessons, their time spent playing with improvisations, the meals they had together, the presents he bought, the times they hugged. The smiles, the laughter and the tears.

“If only,” he whispered. “If only I could fall in love with you, Amaretto.”

“You could. You just need to give yourself time,” she insisted, but Emilio knew better. He knew he could not, and he was bordering on tears.

“Emilio…Do not look so sad.”

Saying nothing else, Amaretto gave a tight hug and then tip-toed to give the man a good-night kiss. Emilio did not react to it, he did not even wave when the lady stepped through the gate.

And he thought he was having a nightmare when he came face to face with Raphael.

“My apologies for disturbing your wonderful evening. Are you sure you do not wish to step through the gate along with her?”

“Raphael, why are you - ?”

“While I am here struggling to escape the role you forced on me, you were off making merry with women.”

“It is not what you think –”

“Is it not?! If it is not, then kiss me!”

“Raphael!”

“Right now! Right here!”

“Stop it this instant –”

“Oh but you will not! You will not kiss me... Because I am not a woman!”

No. That was not it. That was not the reason at all.

Emilio could not feel the lamp in his hand as he watched his precious Raphael cry. It was happening again, he was facing yet another consequence of his actions and it proved that nothing he had ever done was right.

Why?

Trembling, he reached out to hold Raphael’s face in his final plea for forgiveness, but his hand was slapped away.

Nothing else mattered from then on. He did not hear Raphael running away and he did not feel Gabriel pulling his collar.

He only knew three things. He loved Raphael, he had lost Raphael, and he needed to leave.

+++


	25. Emilio (part 5)

When Macmillan cancelled his concert by buying over an entire theatre, just to force Raphael to attend the rehearsals, Emilio was forced to see the bigger picture. Regardless whether Raphael played a female role, his career would be gripped by the neck as long as Emilio remained his weakness.

Standing alone in the darkness that had yet to welcome dawn, Emilio stared at the letter he held. Then he took a long look at the mansion he built for Raphael and at the window of the music room in which they spent so many hours together.

He had done everything he could and all that was left was for Raphael to fulfil his responsibility and perform the role of Ina to the very end. After that, the castrato’s life would be more smooth sailing.

He must not waver.

The letter slipped past the cold grilles of the metal gate and landed on the ground. Emilio pulled his hat low and boarded the horse carriage that waited for him.

His first stop was Lady Amaretto’s place. Flowers and gifts in hand, he called out and roused the lady from her sleep. The alarmed servants tried to chase him away, but they were stopped by their mistress who rushed down stairs in her night gown, face unpainted and hair undone.

“What happened?” she asked, and Emilio felt truly grateful.

They spoke at the door even though it was chilly because it did not feel right for Emilio to enter her place after what happened. He summarised his decision to leave, thanked the lady and tried to pass her the gifts.

“He misunderstood,” Amaretto concluded, and when she received only silence, her eyes narrowed. “And you would let this misunderstanding continue?”

“He and I no longer understand each other.”

“I will explain to him then.”

“No!” The gifts fell to the ground as Emilio gripped both her arms. “He must not know. He is prideful and will only feel insulted if he learns of my involvement in our plot.”

“Then let him feel insulted!” The lady argued. “You need to stop sheltering him from the realities of the world.”

“No, you do not understand. I owe him this much. I cannot - ”

His voice betrayed him and he clamped his mouth shut. There was no point in explaining, he did not know where to start any way. His hands fell back to his sides, and he dipped into a bow.

“I apologise for having to leave, but please help Raphael.”

“I have already spoken to His Highness and he has agreed to attend the opera. The least you can do is to be Raphael’s teacher to the very end and witness its completion before you go.”

Emilio shook his head. He could not bear listening to Raphael sing again. The beautiful voice he loved had become his greatest condemnation.

“I am forever in your debt,” he said, picked up the gifts and tried once again to hand them to her.

A swipe of her hand sent them tumbling to the ground.

“I do not need any of your meaningless gifts.”

The coldness in her eyes reminded him of Raphael. How he had grown used to this response.

“You have to face your demons. You cannot do this to him!” she said, and Emilio knew she meant well. But she did not understand. This was the best thing he could do for Raphael.

With a wry smile, he gave one last nod and bade farewell.

“You are a good man, Emilio,” he heard her say but did not turn to acknowledge. “Why do you never follow your heart and speak your mind?”

Her words looped in his mind as he continued the rest of his planned visitations. This tying of loose ends was unavoidable. He had to settle matters of finance, transfer the deed to his mansion to Raphael, and thank all the people who made his stay and success in this country possible. It took more time than he expected, as his acquaintances were shocked by his departure and tried to make him stay. The longest time was spent at his friend’s house, whose wife he helped send to the hospital when she was in labour.

Emilio smiled at the girl who had just turned four. She was tiny, but very spirited, and she reminded him of Raphael when he was young. Her father picked her up and her mother gave her a kiss. Emilio envied his friend for having such a loving family. The sight created a shift in him, and though he intended to leave the country that very evening, he ended up adding one more stop.

In the reddish cast of the setting sun, he stood before the door to Raphael’s parents’ villa.

“E-Emilio!” the father greeted, with the usual nervousness whenever he visited. “What brings you here?”

Emilio was not so sure himself. Perhaps he was grateful to them for bringing Raphael to this world, or perhaps he felt guilty for taking their son away from them. As he looked at the couple and noticed how old and frail they had become, he wondered if he could continue to be angry with them. They might have gotten richer, but they also suffered eight years of remorse.

Dinner was served and they chatted without Raphael present. Emilio spoke to them more than ever before, about their son’s first solo recital, first trip abroad, and many other significant events in his life. He then talked about the many pairs of shoes he bought during Raphael’s puberty, and the numerous times he had to send for a tailor because it seemed the boy would not stop growing. Then he talked about the surgery and how it almost claimed Raphael’s life.

“Thank you, for - ” Raphael’s mother whispered and could not continue. She maintained her gaze, struggling not to cry, but the resolve broke after a few seconds, and she sobbed uncontrollably into her hands. Her husband held her and spoke comforting words, but tears too fell from his eyes.

Emilio watched the couple, drained and numbed. He did not know what possessed him to share so much, but at least it gave the couple some closure, the kind of closure that he would never get.

That night, he stayed in the villa and lay awake for many hours. He wondered if Raphael managed to fall asleep. That boy used to have difficulty finding sleep before a concert, unless Emilio held his hand. And he would wait until Raphael had fallen asleep before pressing a kiss on his forehead, to dispel his fears and bid him sweet dreams.

He turned to his side and squeezed his eyes shut to chase away the memories. He wished he left without stopping here. That way, he would not have to reminisce his life with Raphael and all the details he knew he would miss forever.

+++

It was noon by the time he woke, and he berated himself for oversleeping. As expected, the coachman he told to come at dawn had given up waiting and he had to find another.

Luggage in hand, he left the villa and trudged down the path that led to the rest of the sparse village. He hoped to reach the stable quickly, so that he could leave the country before he dared to have any second thoughts. But things had changed since the last time he was here, and the stable had moved elsewhere to a larger location.

A gust of wind blew as he made his way across the meadow, and it was so strong it forced him to remove his hat. Long blades of grass stood in his way and each step he took became heavier. The stable lay just a small distance away, and yet his legs slowed, tied down by the memories of this place. Finally, he gave up struggling and stopped. He set down his luggage and took his time to look around.

This was where he first met his little songbird.

_“I am Raphael. Four…Five years old!”_

The world looked so simple from where he stood. There was only the blue sky, golden sun and green grass. Countless times he had played games here with Raphael back when he was young enough to chase that bundle of energy around. He still remembered the boy’s grins, and the sound of his laughter in the wind.

Overcome with nostalgia, Emilio bent over to reach for a lone daisy hidden among the tall grass, but before his fingers made contact, something fell from his coat and hit the ground. It was the flute that his teacher gave him, and which he carried every single day.

The real Mr Castello was the one who taught him the joys of music and showed him that it was a form of self-expression. Music spoke from the heart in ways that words never could.

Emilio picked up the flute and looked at it, wanting to play but hesitating. He did not know what melody would flow, and he feared to hear his own emotions. But alas, he raised it and rested his lips at the mouthpiece.

The first few notes were tentative, a standard tune in the major key. It sounded childish, simple and carefree, like the kind he played when he wanted young Raphael’s tears to dry. It then grew sombre, with each note changing with fewer ornaments, until the improvised song became dark and lonely. Emilio closed his eyes. He no longer heard the wind nor felt his fingers moving. There was only the music, the unrestrained melody. And it began looping after a long phrase, each time sounding slightly different but always unresolved at the end before restarting again. The tempo increased, the notes became louder, but still there was no answer.

If he left this place like this, he would remain in this loop forever.

His fingers stopped moving and his lips left the flute. He stared at his feet, taking in quick breaths as he imagined the days he would have to spend for the rest of his life, regretting all that he had ever done for Raphael. If he ran away like this, he would never find peace.

Very slowly, he lifted his head and glanced at the stable. It would take four hours to get to the theatre, and he would be just in time for the opera.

What was he hoping to achieve by going back? He did not know, and he was too afraid to wish. He just wanted, no, needed, to see Raphael one more time before leaving.

His feet moved on their own, and he reached the stable with unsteady, hesitant steps.

“Take me back,” he told the stable hand.

+++

Emilio joined the queue for the regular audience and did his best not to expose his identity as the famous castrato’s teacher. Being at the actual venue heightened his awareness that it was really happening. Raphael might be forced into a dress right in this very hour and he could do nothing about it. He kept his head low and waited, reassuring himself that the opera will be completed without a hitch.

It was a blessing that he managed to take his seat without being recognised. All around him, people buzzed with excitement and anticipation for the opera. The biggest topic, besides speculation of the plot, was Raphael’s performance as Princess Ina. According to one of them who had supposedly caught a glimpse as the gown was delivered, the castrato would be wearing a deep blue dress.

The colour would suit Raphael’s pale skin, Emilio thought distractedly as he fixed his gaze on the empty stage. From this distance, he would not be able to make out Raphael’s face. It was better this way, because if he saw Raphael’s performance from up close, he might not be able to leave later.

He told himself this was the last time he would hear Raphael sing. He wanted to do at least one thing right, to witness this to the very end and find closure for himself.

Three crashes of the cymbals marked the beginning, and the orchestra burst into an enthusiastic overture. Despite his dislike towards Macmillan, Emilio had to admit the composition was brilliant. The conductor and musicians also did the piece justice and the music resounded beautifully in the theatre.

But although Emilio tried to keep his thoughts to the music, he could not stop the anxiety from overtaking. He was supposed to have come to terms with the fact that he could do nothing else for Raphael. The castrato had to overcome his fears. There was no telling when he might be forced to take a female role in the future. There was only so much he could do to protect Raphael, and he had done _everything_.

Except to stay at Raphael’s side at his time of greatest need.

“No,” he whispered as the overture neared its end. The anxiety he felt was not his own. It was Raphael’s, he understood now with every cell in his body, through an invisible connection between them that he could not deny. Raphael could not do this without him, and he had been an idiot to believe that Gabriel, a visitor who only knew them a few days, could undo all the hurt that was done.

The music dipped, the crowd hushed, and Emilio grew cold when he saw his beloved student on stage.

“Emilio.”

 It was a whisper that he could not possibly have heard from this distance, but he heard it anyway.

“Emilio, where are you?”

He knuckles turned white from gripping his seat, and his eyes stung from rising tears.

“Emilio. You are here, you must be here!”

He never wanted to see Raphael so broken.

“I will not sing unless I see you! I will not sing! Emilio!”

Again, he was too late.

+++

As he stood before the door, he learned that there was no such thing as a satisfactory closure. Not between them, not after thirteen long years.

“Raphael. It is I.”

The door flew open and they embraced, but no matter how tightly they held each other, it was not enough to heal from the pain. Too much damage had been done and they were both past the stage of trying to be strong. Tears slid from Emilio’s eyes as he held Raphael’s face, and he said what he had always been too scared to say.

“I have only ever hurt you,” he whispered. “Forgive me.”

His confession made Raphael cry harder, and even as their foreheads touched, Emilio feared that the tears would never stop. He knew he was bad with words, he was a cold-hearted person, but if the heavens would still deem him worthy to have one wish granted, this time he knew what he wanted. He did not want money, status and not even music. He was Emilio only because he met Raphael, and he wanted to love Raphael properly.

More than determination, it was resignation that made Emilio initiate the kiss. Neither the stunning dress nor the long wig entered his mind, and he knew perfectly well whom he was kissing - the child he raised, the student he groomed, the young man he fell hopelessly in love with. He yearned for Raphael despite being many years older and of the same gender, and he had no choice but to accept this truth.

He nudged Raphael’s pliant lips, nibbled the bottom and allowed his tongue to glide over the corners. Raphael gasped and struggled briefly by reflex, but Emilio wound an arm around his waist to prevent his escape. He was being more demanding than he liked, but he could not help it. He had wanted to kiss Raphael like this for too long.

They were both out of breath when their lips parted. Dazed from the kiss, Raphael rested his face against Emilio’s chest and they remained in that position for as long as they could afford. Emilio held him close and nestled their heads together, his thumb stroking Raphael’s cheek, until at last, the urgency of the situation forced him to speak.

“Listen to me. You have to go back on stage and sing.”

The way Raphael flinched in his arms shattered his heart, but there was simply no other way around. He was the only one who could protect Raphael’s career.

“The audience will not stand for arrogance,” he said. “But if you prove your talent, they will forget this incident.”

He then went on and explained his plan which involved Amaretto and the prince. Throughout, Raphael neither moved nor spoke but Emilio knew he was listening. His student always listened to him.

“That is why you have to do this. You must overcome your phobia of wearing a dress.”

The unforgiving demand hung in the silence, but Emilio did not rush. He let his hand run up and down Raphael’s back in an attempt to soothe the tortured man, and it took a long time before Raphael pulled away.

“Emilio,” he whispered, eyes cast sideways, uncertain. “How do I look? What do you see?”

“You look more beautiful than any woman, enough to stir passion in any man,” he admitted, and before his words could bring hurt, he held the man’s face and made their eyes meet. “But I do not care whether you wear dresses, suits or rags. I see only you, the one I love.”

A sob left Raphael, and he stared wide-eyed at Emilio. Then tears welled up, trickled down his face and landed on hands which were still grasping Emilio’s coat. They collapsed into another embrace, desperate for more time to come to terms with their true feelings. Emilio was not ready to let go even when the surrounding chatter and footsteps grew louder. But he had no choice.

“Raphael,” he whispered and willed his voice not to crack. “Will you sing for me once more?”

“Of course,” Raphael replied, his eyes closed. “As many times as you wish, Emilio.”

+++

The perfection of the castrato’s singing was unreal. Though Emilio hated himself for forcing Raphael to confront his trauma, a horrible side of him was glad. He, more than any other, wished for his student’s success.

On the stage, Raphael sang while thinking of his teacher, because it was the only thought that could carry him through the ordeal. Emilio saw, from the front row this time, the anguish behind Raphael’s every expression and heard every inflection that spoke of love. He learned once again the intensity of Raphael’s feelings for him, and swore this was the last time Raphael had to suffer.

 


	26. Emilio (part 6)

This was a necessary step to become a better man.

Emilio alighted the carriage and took off his hat. The mansion that stood before him was as he had remembered, except older. The gate made a creaky sound when he pushed it open and the front porch that always used to be well kempt was covered by untamed vines.  He stopped in front of the door and gazed at it blankly. A part of him could not believe he was doing this and wanted to leave, but that would negate his efforts thus far. He had promised himself to confront all his demons, and he had to show Raphael that he could live up to his promises.

A letter was sent a few weeks ago to announce his visit, and as he tried the doorknob, he learnt that it reached its destination.

There were no more servants in the house. Emilio’s footsteps rang in the empty mansion, each knock reminding him of his past and why he chose to leave. He glanced at the corner where a harpsichord used to stand and pictured himself sitting there, practicing for hours. Then he took a turn and stepped into the dining room.

A man sat at the head of the table, reading newspapers.

“Maestro Emilio Castello,” he muttered each syllable with disgust. “What is the purpose of your visitation?”

Emilio took his time to observe the man, studying the hunched shoulders and the face that had become much older than he remembered.

“I am home,” he said at last, in the language he had not spoken in years. “Dad.”

A crash sounded as the old man smashed his fist on the table.

“I have no son,” he growled at the newspaper. “If there is no business between us then I humbly request that you leave. This old building is too tattered for someone of your stature.”

Too tattered indeed, Emilio thought as he cast his eyes around the room. The walls were worn and dried wax clung messily to candlesticks. He knew that ever since he left, his father retired from the music industry, and now he wondered if the old man had run out of money.

He took out the wad of cash that he had prepared in this currency, walked to his father, and placed it on the table. It was sent to the floor with a rough push, much like what happened to the gifts he had prepared for Amaretto. Emilio looked down at it, waiting for his father to say something, to yell at him like he always did, but nothing came.

There was only silence, and the sounds of heavy breathing.

Slowly, Emilio bent and picked up the money. He hesitated for a moment before reaching out for his father’s hand and pressing the money into it. The old man struggled, but Emilio held on, both hands clasping the very hand that always used to hit him. His father had become weak.

At last, the struggling ceased and Emilio let go.

“I will visit you again next month, Dad.”

He ought to say more, but that was really the most that would come out at the moment. Suppressing the lump rising in his throat, he gathered his suitcase and left the dining room. Sobs entered his ears just as he was about to step out the front door, and he wavered. But he knew, he learnt after so much had happened with Raphael, that thirteen years of pain could not heal in a single day.

So he exited his old home without looking back and boarded the horse carriage.

+++

“Welcome back.”

A genuine smile spread on his face as he regarded his precious student, whom he knew had been waiting at the porch for his return. Raphael scuttled over to help with unloading the gifts from the horse carriage and Emilio noted, with some amusement, how the young man tried to subtly avoid him.

A yelp left Raphael when he was caught in a hug.

“Th-the parcels,” the young man said, flustered and trying to pull away. “Let me pick them up.”

“I am home,” Emilio said and sighed, letting all the tension that had built up in his body drain away. “It is best to be here with you.”

He stayed in that position and did not let go until Raphael gave in and returned the hug.

“How was your reunion with your father?” Raphael asked.

“It did not go well,” the older man replied. “I doubt he would ever forgive me.”

“Did you apologise?”

“…I could not.”

Emilio felt it as Raphael sighed against his shoulder, and he thought how fortunate he was to have someone who cared so deeply for him. He touched Raphael’s face as they separated from the embrace, and without warning, tilted his head upwards to peck his lips.

“Worry not,” he said while gazing into the stunned large orbs. “I will keep trying.”

It was almost funny how the tall man scrambled from his arms, blushing and shielding his mouth. In his hurry, his steps fumbled and he tripped on some of the parcels that had fallen to the ground. A short chuckle escaped Emilio before he helped the man to his feet, and that was when he saw a moonstone pendant dangling on Raphael’s neck.

“This,” he began, wanting to ask about it, but Raphael hurriedly stuffed it back under his shirt.

“It is nothing.”

The boy had never been good at lying, and Emilio had known him too long.

“Was it from Gabriel?”

Raphael jolted at the mentioned of the name and fell very quiet. He turned away and nodded.

Three months ago, Emilio thought Gabriel could bring about freshness in Raphael’s life and take him away from the pain. As it turned out, he had expected too much from the young man, but at the same time, underestimated him. The courageous young man had changed Raphael, taught him to treasure himself and inspired him to become stronger. Gabriel did everything that Emilio could not in just three short weeks. It was difficult not to be jealous.

“I was afraid,” Raphael said and paused, eyes searching the ground. “I did not wish to upset you.”

“Nonsense.”

It happened again, Emilio realised when he saw the troubled look on Raphael’s face. This, out of everything, was the hardest to change - his awkwardness with words. How could he let Raphael know how he really felt?

Emilio pondered for a while, then he retrieved the flute in his coat and showed it to Raphael.

“There is nothing wrong with having a keepsake,” he said. “It is important to remember the things taught by special people.”

The frown melted away into a relieved smile, and Raphael nodded. Emilio smiled too, glad that he was improving, slowly but surely.

It was the same with his music. In order to be powerful enough to protect the castrato, he had to become more influential in the music industry. For years he had held back in composing, distracted by his guilt towards Raphael, but now it seemed his music would not stop overflowing. In just two months, he had composed a symphony and had the fortune of letting it be brought to life by his friend’s orchestra. The piece garnered more attention than he expected, and people praised how the music broke traditions and threatened to run berserk, and yet was ultimately held together by its unique structure. Emilio was unsure if he deserved those praises, it had not been his intention to appear avant-garde, but he made the most of his climbing popularity.

That evening, Raphael stood beside him during his solo recital. The pipe organ rang as he pressed the keys with his fingers and feet, and he performed the piece that he had composed in secret when he was much younger, before he left home. Since then he had made several changes, and perhaps because he saw his father again after so many years, he finally felt ready to unveil the melody to the world.

The musician played while fully trusting his assistant to pull the correct tab at the right moments, and Raphael did not disappoint. Emilio let out a satisfied smile when the timbre of the music changed exactly as he imagined at the end of a phrase, and he thought there was perhaps nothing that could bring him more fulfilment than creating music with the one he loved.

+++

“Are you stupid?”

Amaretto sat opposite him, legs crossed and elbows propped languidly on the armrests. A pipe dangled at the corner of her lips, and the word ‘impatience’ was written across her face. Her eyes were unforgiving, just as how they had been ever since the day Emilio almost left the country. Yet despite her general display of anger, she always welcomed the man inside.

“What do you mean you are ‘content with just creating music with him’?” she asked, mimicking Emilio’s mellow tone with dripping sarcasm. “There is a limit to how much you can fool yourself, block head.”

Emilio did not know how to reply. He was not even sure what was wrong with what he said, so he decided to just keep quiet and let the wiser woman scold him.

However, the scolding did not continue. Amaretto took several hasty puffs from the pipe before setting it aside. Then she leaned forward, letting her long hair pool over her chest, and peered up at Emilio with a sly smile.

“I know you want to push him down and have your way with him.”

The teasing reached Emilio as an accusation, and he blanched, shaking his head in denial.

“No. I will never do something so horrible to him.”

“Horrible?” She raised an eyebrow. “What is so horrible about claiming someone who completely adores you?”

Emilio shook his head again. Amaretto knew nothing about what happened to Raphael in the past, and she did not know it was all because he lost self-control. Besides, he knew Raphael still missed Gabriel. The kind of guilt he harboured for Gabriel was exactly the same as the one Emilio felt towards him.

“I have to respect his feelings,” he said and kept his eyes to the floor.

There was a sigh and some silence before Ameretto stood up to sit beside him. Then she pulled Emilio sideways and let his head rest on her shoulder.

“Why do you look so tortured?” she said. “You saw the way he called out for you on stage. He needs you as much as you need him, Emilio.”

“I do not deserve him.”

“And there you go again, beating yourself up for no reason,” she huffed and landed a light hit on his arm. “Have more confidence in yourself, you are changing for the better! You are learning to show him more affection, right?”

Emilio nodded.

“Well then have you properly told him that you love him?” The pause that followed made Amaretto’s eyebrows twitch. “Have you, or not?” she pressed.

“I think I did, on the day of the opera.”

In a fit of frustration, the lady shoved the man away from her, stood up and straightened her dress.

“You hopeless idiot!” she growled. “So you went ahead with the hugs and kisses without even telling him properly how much he means to you?!”

“…We have kissed since before the opera.”

“That is even worse.”

Amaretto was right, Emilio conceded with a sigh. This was exactly why he believed he did not deserve Raphael. And now it seemed he did nothing but anger the lady with each of his visits, even though she did so much for him.

“I apologise, I have disturbed for too long,” he said and got ready to leave.

“Wait, wait, wait.”

Emilio stopped but did not dare to turn, for he feared to lose Amaretto as a friend. However, contrary to his expectations, the lady did not berate him. Instead, her thin arms wrapped around his waist.

“I have not spoken to Raphael personally, but I can tell he loves you,” she said, her face pressed against his back. “But he is young and does not understand the matters of the heart. Since you were the one who raised him, I reckon he is even more clueless in this aspect. That is why you must stop being ambiguous, Emilio. You have to confess your love and desires, clearly, so that he knows he is allowed to habour the same feelings for you. It is your responsibility to teach him.”

Emilio touched her hand, feeling grateful, not for the first time, that he had this lady as a friend. He needed her advice and encouragement.

“I fear…” he said and swallowed. “I fear his rejection. And even if he accepts me, I fear to lead him down the path of no return.”

“Then fear, but do it anyway. Tell him you love him, for both your own sake and his,” she said and squeezed him harder. “I hate to see you broken like this.”

With that, she released him from the hug and went back to her pipe.

“Be gone, silly man. Do not bother visiting until you have properly confessed your feelings to Raphael,” she said, thought for a while and added. “And do not let women touch you anymore, myself included.”

Emilio did not understand the last part, but he nodded, expressed his heartfelt gratitude and took his leave.

Behind the closed door, Amaretto sat on the couch and smoked her pipe. Her eyes gazed out of the window and they were listless, but cheer soon returned and her lips curled upwards.

“Thank god we did not marry,” she murmured.

+++

For days, Emilio wondered how he could confess. He considered buying gifts, but knew not which object could possibly represent his feelings. He also considered getting flowers, but he did not want Raphael to think he was treating him like a woman. Walking down the street and peering into shops only made him more confused.

Perhaps he could not do it after all. The task was too tall for someone like him who could hardly even speak his mind. Besides, he knew he took after his father, a man who could not even keep his wife.

No, Emilio scolded himself and gripped his fist. He had to stop thinking like this. Nothing would change if he continued to doubt his own ability. There had to be something he could do to tell Raphael how he felt, something that could express the complicated feelings in a more accurate manner than saying a simple ‘I love you’.

That was when it occurred to him, and he felt like hitting himself for not realising sooner. There was one thing he had been wanting to do for Raphael, ever since the moment they met.

The week that followed was difficult for Emilio as he struggled to balance his work with Raphael. Understanding his need for personal space, Raphael had stayed far away and never disturbed, but Emilio did not want this distance. To maximise his time with Raphael in the day, he worked late into the night and sacrificed sleep.

But it was all worth it as he managed to make it in time.

“Raphael, come with me,” he said one particular evening.

The castrato had just returned from his rehearsal. The recent days were hectic as the opera for the prince’s birthday was happening soon, and there was barely any time for him to rest. But though he was tired, he obeyed without questioning. They walked in silence up the stairs with Emilio being two steps ahead and stopped at the music room.

Inside, a cello was set on the floor near the harpsichord, together with a chair and music stand. Raphael looked at Emilio quizzically but the latter did not explain. He went to the table, opened the drawer and retrieved what he had prepared.

It took three deep breaths before he mustered enough courage to hand it over.

“Happy birthday.”

Raphael was surprised, though he should not be since they always celebrated their birthdays together. The only explanation was that he forgot it was his own birthday.

“Thank you,” Raphael said at last, smiling wider by the second. He traced his forefinger over the words on the cover of the booklet.

Sonata in B Major for Violoncello and Harpsichord.

“Will you play the accompaniment?”

“Gladly!”

Impatient to read the entire score, Raphael flipped open the booklet with shining eyes but he was stopped by a palm over the first page.

“Please do not look before you listen,” Emilio requested.

“Of course,” Raphael said carefully and gave an awkward laugh. “That means I have to sight-read. I hope I do not destroy the piece.”

Emilio went to the cello without saying anything else, mainly because he was tongue-tied. He had never felt so nervous about giving a performance. This piece he had composed on impulse was the crystallization of his innermost emotions, his secrets, and he had decided it would remain private for the rest of his life. The only person he would perform it for, and with, was Raphael.

He took in another deep breath as the bow rested on the strings and he gave Raphael the cue.

The first movement, an Allegro, started with a bold theme, brooding and questioning. Emilio played with aggressive strokes along with the strong rhythm of the accompaniment and he had his eyes closed. The nervousness he felt just seconds earlier had disappeared, and there was only focus in bringing out the music with his entire soul. The cello and harpsichord sounded in perfect harmony even though it was Raphael’s first look at the music, and Emilio knew it was because their synergy was honed over the years they spent playing music together.

At the end of a phrase, the music took a turn and shifted to E Major. The melody turned light and spoke of an abundance of joy, and the phrases became shorter and simpler. The cello took the lead and the harpsichord followed, as if it was a game with turn taking. A chuckle escaped Raphael, and Emilio allowed himself to laugh along. This was a combination of some tunes they composed together for fun during their improvisation lessons. Raphael still remembered, even after so many years.

At the end of the first movement, they took some time to smile at each other, warmed by the memories. Then Emilio lowered his gaze, flipped the page and moved on to the second movement.

A broad stroke of the bow and vibrato started the Largo in G sharp minor. The cello played alone at first, a slow tune of loneliness. Then the harpsichord joined in, adding layers of anguish until the oppressive mood consumed the whole room. Halfway through, Emilio reached down the fingerboard and played a variation of the first song Raphael sang as a castrato, amidst a depressing tune of terrible lament.

It was obvious by now, that he had composed the sonata while thinking of Raphael.

Emilio peered at Raphael at the end of the movement, observing his frown and the fearful look of realisation, but the man did not look at him. He merely stared at the keys.

If they stopped now, they could retain their teacher-student relationship.

The temptation to give up froze Emilio’s hand and the bow he held shook. He might not be brave enough after all; there were simply too many reasons for Raphael to reject him. It was foolish of him to believe that he could do this in the first place.

“Emilio.”

Raphael’s voice stopped the negative descend of his thoughts. The young man was still staring at the keys and his frown was still present, but there was something else. The orange glow of the lamp cast upon his face and made it look as if he was blushing.

“I want to listen to the end,” he said quietly. “I want to finish hearing the sonata you composed for me.”

Without waiting for a response, Raphael pressed the first chord of the third movement and Emilio had no choice but to follow. It was back to B Major, and the tune was a reminiscence of the starting phrase in the first movement, but faster. Emilio moved without thinking, his own heartbeat keeping up with the hurried tempo, and each bar that passed took away his hesitation. It was his duty to play this music to the very end.

Hunching over the cello, Emilio clenched his jaw and willed the music to transform. A passionate long note broke the chaotic melody, and it sustained over the bars, resounding along with its echoes in the room. Then it mellowed and each note became more careful. Softer still the music dipped, until there was nothing left but the most romantic tenderness.

The harpsichord stopped before it was supposed to, but the cello did not. It continued fervently, whispering the longing Emilio felt for Raphael. It was a desperate plea and an unbridled yearning, all beneath the timid declaration of love.

Then the bow stopped, and the music was left hanging without a conclusion.

Emilio set down the cello and stood shakily, his whole body still feeling the tremors of the music. He kept his eyes on Raphael as he approached, searching for his reactions. The polished surface of the harpsichord reflected their silhouettes as Emilio settled on the bench, and their shadows wavered when a breeze disturbed the flame in the lamp. Emilio rested his hand on the keys, and his fingers inched sideways slowly and overlapped with Raphael’s.

“Will you answer the melody?”

The question could barely be heard, but it drew Raphael’s gaze away from the incomplete music score. And they looked at each other, the way they never dared to until this moment. Emilio held Raphael’s hand tighter as their shoulders gravitated towards each other.

Their lips hovered an inch apart, then they touched.

Emilio nudged only the centre of Raphael’s trembling lips, testing. The younger man stayed still as they kissed, but the breath he was holding escaped as a gasp when Emilio caressed his face. The reaction was so endearing Emilio could not help but claim more of the soft lips. He pressed closer, nibbling gently and urging the other man to respond more. A moan leaked as Raphael’s lips parted to return the kiss, and he leaned into Emilio’s palm submissively. Their fingers tangled in the passion, and neither was willing to let go.

The kiss was pure, but it was more than enough to make their hearts pound.

Raphael’s face was flushed at the end of the kiss, but unlike the day at the opera, his mind was clear and fully aware of what just happened. There was lingering desire in his eyes, but also doubt and fear. He looked away, retracted his hand and said nothing.

“Is this… a rejection?”

Raphael shook his head, and Emilio let out a sigh.

“I think I…I need time.”

It was the best reply Emilio could ever hope for. He did not want to rush Raphael into a decision that would change both their lives, and he liked that Raphael had become mature enough to know what he needed. Moreover, his feelings had gotten across to the man he loved, and the answer was not a rejection. The relief he felt was almost unreal.

“I will wait,” Emilio said, picked up Raphael’s hand again and pressed a reverent kiss on the back. “I have waited for years, a few more will not matter.”

Raphael spared a bashful glance before leaving the bench and Emilio watched as the man helped to keep the music stand. When he was done, Emilio closed the score lying on the harpsichord and passed it to Raphael. It was received without a word, and the younger man kept his head bowed even as he turned to exit the room.

“Raphael,” Emilio called. He remembered Amaretto’s advice to be frank about his desires, and he decided, it was now or never.

“When you are ready,” he said, “I will make you mine.”

A rustle sounded as the booklet slipped from Raphael’s grasp and hit the floor. He stared at Emilio in disbelief, and his face burned in utter embarrassment. His hands covered his gaping mouth, reached down hastily for the booklet, and then went back to his mouth. Two back steps brought him near the door, and clutching his birthday gift against his chest, he turned the door knob and scrambled from the room.

That night, Emilio remained in the music room for a while longer, drained from completing what might have been the biggest challenge in his life. All that was left was to wait, and he was willing to wait however long it took for the doubt and fear to dissipate, so that only love and trust remained.

He closed his eyes and smiled.

The years shackled by guilt had finally ended, and he was now free to fulfill his greatest wish - to cherish Raphael.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This side story about Emilio means a lot to me personally, and I feel honoured to be able to share it with you. As I was writing, I feared that I had destroyed his cool image lol, but I can only write how the character manifested himself in my mind. His awkwardness is really next level, and he has much to learn when it comes to the matters of the heart.
> 
> That said, most people I know hate Emilio so I'd be over the moon if anyone of you actually like him! Please comment and let me know!
> 
> Next chapter is the last, about Raphael and Emilio getting together. It's rated Explicit hohoho, so please enjoy~


	27. Raphael and Emilio

What should he do?

It was not the first time Raphael asked himself that question. He sat on the ground among many other passers-by who had decided to stop and watch. Like them, he was hypnotised by both the amazing music and the charming man playing it.

Emilio sat at the fountain, wearing a hat and long trench coat. Held against his chest was an accordion, secured by a strap that ran across his right shoulder. While others had their hands in gloves or pockets in this cold weather, the musicians’ fingers were bare, and they ran over keys effortlessly. The bellows expanded and contracted at his will and a soothing melody flowed, one that tempted the audience to close their eyes and appreciate, if only they were not already captivated by the dreamy expression on the musician’s face.

Whispers were passed among the crowd and Raphael strained his ears to listen, until he remembered he could not understand the language of this country. Nevertheless, judging from their smiles and nods, Raphael knew they were praising his teacher. A grin spread as his entire being brimmed with pride, and he felt so fortunate to be able to go on this trip with Emilio.

It began with a simple question that he really should have asked years ago: ‘Is your country beautiful?’

They went to Emilio’s old home in the morning, to visit the man’s father. While Raphael stood respectfully at a distance, he still managed to catch a glimpse of their interaction. The stern old man did not speak during their short visit, but neither did he turn them away. The only one who spoke was Emilio, who gave brief updates about his life before handing his father a stack of money.

Then they left the mansion and roamed the town. Emilio brought him to the alley where he met his teacher, the real Mr Castello, and there Raphael learnt for the first time Emilio’s true name. Overwhelmed by the revelation, Raphael had tried calling him by that name, but the attempt ended with an awkward chuckle and both of them agreed that they were more used to ‘Emilio’.

The rest of the morning was spent strolling down the streets, browsing in shops and trying the local delicacies. Emilio spoke at length about his past, how his mother left them for another man, and how his father never allowed him to spare a glance at anything unrelated to music. All of these, Raphael wished he knew much earlier.

What had he been doing all these years, claiming to love his teacher without knowing him?

Just as gloom set in, Emilio pulled him into a shop and purchased an accordion, saying he had not played one in a long time. And then despite the cold of winter, Emilio spontaneously decided to perform for free in the town square. Raphael knew he was doing it to cheer him up.

What should he do about the bursting feeling in his chest?

For a while now, he had been wanting to give Emilio his answer. In fact, the sonata lay in his drawer at home, completed with a satisfying resolution. The only thing left to do was to hand it to Emilio, but it was also the hardest thing to do. No matter how hard he tried, he could not forget what the man said that night on his birthday.

_“When you are ready, I will make you mine.”_

That meant going to bed, right? Raphael pulled his scarf higher to hide his blush as his mind ran wild trying to imagine how it would be like to sleep with Emilio. He had experience with men, but he did not think he could be calm enough to embrace Emilio as he did to the rest. Neither could he imagine it being mutual, like how it was with Gabriel.

The thought of the special man cooled his head, and he lowered his scarf and placed a hand over his chest, feeling the pendant resting beneath his clothes. He still remembered the man’s warmth, and the smile that gave him strength when he needed it the most. It had been half a year. The ache in his chest was no longer intense, but it throbbed away softly, lingering and telling him to never forget.

Yet, he knew Gabriel had left his life for good and he had to move on. It was not right to keep Emilio waiting any longer.

What should he do?

The music came to an end and applause sounded around the musician. Some offered coins, other offered to make acquaintances, but Emilio politely declined. Then as if to shut them up, he launched into another song. The familiar tune made Raphael look up; it was his favourite folk song when he was still a child. Emilio tapped his foot as he played the cheerful music, and Raphael soon found himself nodding to the beat like he used to in the past. The audience clapped along as well, but all of Raphael’s attention remained on the musician.

It was then Emilio looked up, rested his light blue eyes on Raphael’s, and smiled.

Heat rushed to the tip of Raphael’s ears and his stomach knotted. Some jealous ladies turned to see who the musician was smiling at, and Raphael could feel their burning gazes of curiosity, but he did not care. Hugging his knees, he returned the smile with a brilliant grin of his own, and chose to stop thinking and just enjoy the music for now.

He loved Emilio too much.

+++

Their evening was destroyed by the appearance of a single woman. They had been watching a concert together and was on their way back to the inn where they would spend the night, but as fate would have it, Lady Gloria attended the same concert and spotted Raphael. She claimed she was here to accompany her husband on his work trip, but said husband was nowhere to be seen.

“What a coincidence,” she said while holding his arm against her breasts. “I did not expect to see you here.”

“Me neither,” Raphael replied, trying to subtly pry his arm away without success. He stole a look at Emilio and worried when he saw the man keeping a distance. He knew Emilio disliked Lady Gloria and despised her infidelity tendencies. “It is late. Perhaps we could spend time together another day.”

“Oh you are so cold,” the lady grumbled and pressed her face against Raphael’s arm. She appeared to be slightly intoxicated. “You have not visited me for months. Do you know how lonely I felt?”

Raphael frowned, not knowing how to reply. It was true that he cut off connections with many people ever since Gabriel left, because he no longer thought it was right to have affairs with them. But as much as he wanted to get away from Lady Gloria at the moment, he remembered that he was once under her care. This was the first woman he slept with, the one who taught him that there was pleasure to be had in bed and not just pain.  In a way, they used to lick each other’s wounds, because they were both lonely. Raphael had heard too much about how her husband neglected her.

But things were different now. Raphael understood that he had to confront his problems instead of escaping from them, and if possible, he wanted to encourage her to do the same.

“Your husband would be worried if you return too late.”

“He does not care,” she said, refusing to let go. “Raphael, will you spend the night with me? We can go back to how we used to be.”

The terrible question was spoken at a shameless volume, and Raphael grimaced. He did not want Emilio to hear all these.

“Please stop,” he said, getting frustrated. “You have to go back to your husband.”

“Do not tell me what to do.” At once, the seductive smile she wore was replaced by a scowl. “I have done so much for you, helped your popularity to climb, and now you would not even spend one more night with me?”

Out of the corner of his eyes, Raphael saw Emilio whirling around with a scary glare.

This was bad. Really bad. Panicking, Raphael raised a hand and silently begged Emilio to leave this to him. He breathed a sigh of relief when Emilio looked away and complied.

“Lady Gloria, I am grateful for what you have done for me, but I will not sleep with you ever again,” Raphael said, and he was being neither careful nor polite. He learnt from Gabriel that sometimes he should just be honest and not care about the consequences. “Please let go of me now.”

They locked eyes for a moment, and then she did as told, perhaps persuaded by his conviction. However she continued holding Raphael’s hand for a while longer, her head bowed.

“At least give me a kiss,” she said. “As a way of parting.”

“I apologise. I will not.”

Angered, she dropped Raphael’s hand and stepped away.

“You are always like this,” she yelled. “You never kissed me even when we were in bed, you cold-hearted man!”

Raphael took the accusation in stride, and he did not waver even as the woman walked briskly away.

Then there was only awkwardness between himself and Emilio.

“…Let us head back,” Emilio said and started walking.

Raphael followed behind, not knowing what to do. Had he angered Emilio? Was Emilio disappointed in him? He hated himself for sleeping around with so many people in the past. He had been too stupid, and now his poor decisions had come back to bite him, just as his relationship with Emilio was improving.

“E-Emilio,” he called out nervously. “Like I said, I will not sleep with her again. And I have not met Lady Lilia since the opera. I also told Maestro O’Connor to stop visiting me, and -”

Raphael stopped in the middle, and he wanted to hit himself for sounding as if he had many lovers in the past. Granted, it _was_ true that he had many lovers, but these were details he hoped Emilio would never know. What if Emilio despised him?

As he turned pale with worry, a chuckle sounded. It took Raphael a while to realise Emilio was laughing.

The older man rested a hand on his head, and looked at him dotingly.

“I understand,” he said. “It is natural to want to experiment at your age.”

Did Emilio just indirectly give him permission to sleep around? Suddenly, the worry in Raphael transformed into frustration. He was treated like a child and looked down upon. It was as if Emilio did not believe Raphael could be dedicated to one person.

He reached up and clasped Emilio’s hand.

“I am past that stage,” he proclaimed. “And now I will only sleep with the man I love!”

The blue eyes widened and they froze.

Then Raphael released Emilio’s hand and turned away very stiffly.

“We-We-We should get going,” he said.

The journey back to the inn was agonising, and it seemed as if they would never reach it. Raphael marched ahead of Emilio and did not say anything. He had already said too many stupid things.

“Raphael.”

The deep voice jolted him from his thoughts and he walked faster, afraid to respond. He was terrified when he heard the footsteps behind him quicken as well.

“Raphael, wait.”

By reflex, Raphael obeyed his teacher’s command. His feet stopped against his will, and he did not dare to look back even as his hand was held.

“Tell me,” Emilio said, his voice darkened with something that Raphael did not quite understand. “Was it true that you never kissed her?”

“Yes,” Raphael answered, puzzled by the question. “I have never kissed…” he said and trailed off, then his other hand, the one not held, rose to cover his mouth.

“…Why?”

This time Raphael did not answer. How could he ever admit something so embarrassing, that he thought of Emilio even as his body connected with another? His face burned in shame and he prayed in vain for Emilio to let go and drop the subject, but the man only continued to search him with his eyes. It was too much for Raphael to ignore.

“I just cannot bring myself to kiss another!” he exclaimed at last in abandon.

There was silence. Raphael kept his head turned away, fearing the other man’s reaction.

“You mean to say,” Emilio spoke softly after a while. “That you have never kissed anyone you slept with?”

Raphael nodded.

“What about Gabriel?”

The name made him jump a little, but he shook his head.

“Does this mean…that I am the only person you have ever kissed?”

Raphael did not move, but it was reaction enough.

Emilio squeezed his hand, let go, and squeezed it again. There was a sigh, followed by another heavier sigh, and Raphael thought he heard the man swallow.

Then he was being pulled into an alley.

“E-Emilio?” he asked nervously. “Where are we go - mmph!”

His back found a wall, and the kiss that came too fast assaulted his lips, giving his mind no chance to understand the act before his body reacted. Pleasure flowed from the soft touch of lips to his fingertips, and he clawed weakly at the coat Emilio wore. The shock numbed his mind and he could only move according to his instincts. However, there was a sudden pause, and Raphael was left unsatisfied. He peeked in confusion.

“Here,” Emilio whispered, guiding the hand that did not know what to do to the back of his neck.

An incredible warmth surged in Raphael but he had no time to dwell on it as his lips were taken again, gentler this time, but not any less demanding. Emilio tugged on his bottom lip, teasing him, dominating him, all the while brushing his hair out of the way and caressing his face. Raphael’s stomach constricted and he opened his mouth to gasp for air. His legs buckled when their tongues touched, and he held on to Emilio as tightly as he could.

The kiss then ended, as abruptly as it started.

“Sorry,” Emilio said and pulled away, shielding his mouth and breathing heavily. “I should not have… not in public.”

The more flustered one was Raphael. His knees were weak and he supported himself against the wall, staring at Emilio helplessly. He had gotten hard from the kiss and he did not think he could walk.

But they walked anyway, somehow, out of the alley and towards the inn. Raphael’s heart went on beating loudly, and he wondered if anyone else on the street could hear it.  He was not even sure if there were people around, he could not see beyond a metre of where he was going. Just knowing that Emilio walked beside him was enough to scorch his senses and he could not help but be overly aware of the man’s every movement.

A burst of courage made him look over, and he stopped breathing when their eyes happened to meet.

Seconds later they were kissing in another alley.

“Stick out your tongue.”

Raphael did as he was told, his whole body trembling from anticipation. Emilio reached in, deeper than he ever did, and the friction between their tongues sent wave after wave of pleasure to his groin. Impossibly excited, Raphael pressed closer, rubbing himself against Emilio and craving more of the man’s warmth.

He had no idea how many times they stopped to kiss, where they lost their hats, nor how they made it back to the inn. The moment Raphael stepped into their room, he was pinned against the closed door and his lips were ravaged in another passionate kiss. Emilio’s hands roamed all over his chest, and Raphael felt every touch despite the layers he wore. He moved along and squirmed, aching to feel the touches even more intimately. As if sensing his wish, Emilio hastily undid Raphael’s cravat and then moved on to peel away his coat. A cry left Raphael as lips descended on his exposed neck and sucked. Emilio’s fingers finally made contact with his skin as they reached under his shirt, and he thought he was going insane from desire. He had never burned this much for another person.

He bit back a whimper of frustration when Emilio pulled away again.

“No,” he protested, wanting to beg for more, until he realised why the man stopped.

It was the moonstone pendant he wore.

In an instant, the heat in his head drained away.

“Sorry,” Emilio said. He sat on the bed and faced the wall, far away from Raphael. “I promised to wait until you are ready. I should not have gotten carried away.”

For the umpteenth time, Raphael wondered what to do. But as he stared at Emilio’s back, hunched from guilt and shame, he realised he had the answer all along.

The room was still cold even though the freezing wind was kept out by glass windows, and Raphael shivered now that he wore only his thin shirt. But the cold helped to clear his mind, and so he was completely aware of what he was doing when he removed the pendant from his neck. A few steps brought him to the desk, and he placed the jewellery in a drawer. He spent a few more seconds, taking deep breaths and staring at the pendant. At last, he slid the drawer shut.

It was not because his body ached from desire, nor that Gabriel no longer mattered.

It was simply because, at this very moment, Raphael only wanted to think of the person he loved most in the world.

“I am ready,” he whispered, knowing well the gravity of his decision. “Make me yours, Emilio.”

Silence stretched between them in the dark room lit only by moonlight. There was no response from Emilio, and he wondered if the man heard his words. He was about to repeat them when his arm was grasped. A strong tug made him stumble backwards, and he winced when his head hit the mattress. The next thing he knew, he was staring into eyes darkened with an intense mixture of love, lust and fear.

“Are you sure?” the man asked, caging him with his arms, his face an inch away.

Raphael nodded, and not wanting to see Emilio tortured by his guilt anymore, reached up to kiss him.

They kissed tenderly at first with Emilio whispering in between kisses, asking if he was really allowed to continue. Raphael responded to each question with words of assurance, and he ran his fingers through the man’s black hair. The powerful longing they held for each other made them collapse into a frantic embrace. Emilio rested some of his weight on Raphael, and the latter revelled in the warmth it brought, winding his arms around the man’s back and holding him close.

When Emilio withdrew and removed his coat, there was no more hesitation. The heat that was built up between them now came back with double the force, and Raphael sucked in a breath when Emilio’s hand reached into his shirt again. Fingers wandered across the skin, lightly grazing the bottom of his ribs. The touches were scalding and ticklish at the same time and Raphael could only take in short rapid breaths as the fingers worked their way up, reaching over the middle of his chest and sliding over his collarbone. He let out a moan, wanting Emilio to continue touching him like that, but against his hope, the hand travelled down to his navel and rested there. The torturous action was repeated, caressing him up and down, but never touching the areas that needed it. Raphael tried not to writhe, he did not want to appear too needy in front of Emilio, but his body refused to listen.

He twisted and moaned when a finger neared his nipple, and he bit his bottom lip when Emilio sensed his intention and denied him the touch.

“E-Emilio,” he begged. “I-I want -!”

His plea was cut off by a sharp gasp when his neck was attacked again. Emilio dragged his tongue from the base up the side of his neck in one quick motion, leaving behind a hot tingling trail.  Raphael squirmed, caught between wanting to escape the shame and needing more of the pleasure. He could not think when Emilio licked him again, except much slower and his moan escalated with every inch the moist tongue covered. It ran all the way to the shell of his ear.

Raphael cried out, and his back arched when Emilio flicked his nipple.

“Ah, no, stop,” he mumbled confusedly and clawed at the sheets, not knowing what he really wanted anymore. But he was ignored and Emilio carried on teasing him. The wet sounds and warm breath invaded his sensitive ear and he could not help bucking his hips whenever the cruel circling finger decided to flick his nipple. His moans became less controlled and he found neither words to protest nor pleas to beg for more. He could only entrust everything to Emilio.

“You have no idea how alluring you are right now.”

The voice he thought he knew well had turned husky beyond recognition, and it sent a violent tremble down his spine. Emilio’s hand left his chest and instead, rested on his hips. Raphael looked down, dazed, as the man worked to remove his trousers, and he saw with his own eyes the patch that stained the last thin layer.

A finger pressed on the patch, and Raphael hissed. Unable to look away, he watched as Emilio lifted the waistband and carefully dragged it downwards. His erection sprang out once the restrictive clothing was removed, and it throbbed several times in succession, fluid flowing from the tip. Raphael stared at himself in disbelief. This was the wettest he had ever been.

An arm wound under his waist and pulled him into a sitting position without warning. Being upright made some blood leave his head, and Raphael was more aware of the fact that he was exposed in front of Emilio. He pulled his shirt down to cover as much of himself as possible and he thought this was the most embarrassing thing that could ever happen to him, until he looked into the full length mirror right before him.

It showed himself, skin flushed, legs spread and fully aroused.

Shame consumed him and an incoherent fear made him desperate to escape, but he was caught by two arms that wound around his chest from the back.

“Look at yourself.”

The words sent a shockwave through Raphael’s body, messing up his thoughts and reactions. The fear he felt previously disappeared, and he found himself obeying even though he was dying from the shame. Emilio hiked up his shirt, the moonlight cast on his skin and he had a clear view of himself. He saw his nipples erect when they were pinched, his own cock twitching in response, and his own face contorted in passion. The man then made other demands, telling him to hold up his shirt, and to spread his legs wider. Raphael did them all; Emilio could make him do anything.

He threw his head back when Emilio’s slender fingers wrapped around his erection and fulfilled the secret wish he held for years. For a moment, the pleasure was too great as his ear was nibbled the same time he was stroked, and he could not look into the mirror. His mouth parted but his moans were stuck, and all that came out were strangled gasps. Just then, Emilio trailed a finger along the front of his throat.

“Let me hear your voice, Raphael.”

It was a request he could not possibly deny, not after so many years of being taught to use that very voice. The next moan that spilled was unrestrained, and under Emilio’s urging, he was looking at his own reflection again. His hands held his shirt high up above his chest, his lips gave way to moans and his eyes watched Emilio playing with his nipples and pumping him. He looked at Emilio too, saw how the tousled black hair framed his blue eyes, and met his heated gaze through the reflection. Emilio was watching him intently, even as he thrusted to each frustrating light stroke.

The orgasm that came caught him by surprise. His stomach clenched powerfully and he cried out. Waves of pleasure washed over him and he watched his own liquid spurt into the air in multiple bursts. Emilio held down the foreskin and pumped, forcing him to experience the orgasm in its entirety, and only let go when he stopped squirting.

Spent, Raphael turned away and buried his face into Emilio’s neck in shame.

“Sorry,” he said. “I should have held back.”

It was the first time he reached orgasm too soon and he thought there was something wrong with his body. He had never lost control and his mind was never this hazy; he did not even have the capacity to feel self-conscious about the scar on his genital. Snuggling into Emilio’s embrace as they sat together, he felt the heat eating at him although he was supposed to be satisfied.

“You are amazing,” Emilio said, his voice still impassioned. “So much better than in my dreams.”

“Dreams?” Raphael asked, purring and enjoying the way his back was caressed. “Have you dreamt of this before?”

“Many times,” the man admitted and sighed. “I did horrible things to you in my dreams, Raphael. Made you cry, watched you cry and then kissed you senseless.”

Raphael pulled away slightly to look at Emilio, but the man had his face turned away.

“You must not fulfil all my wretched fantasies,” Emilio continued to say. “You must tell me if you dislike anything.”

“I want this as much as you,” Raphael argued. His straddled Emilio, rested his hands on shoulders and gave him a kiss. “Tell me how you want me to pleasure you.”

A shiver ran down his spine when he saw a dangerous glint in Emilio’s eyes, but he did his best not to look away. He sensed the hands on his back inching lower, and his heartbeat accelerated again. At last they rested on his rear. Raphael held his breath as a finger traced the crack and he squeezed his eyes shut when it dipped and reached his hole.

“I want to enter you,” Emilio whispered. “Are you scared?”

Memories of when he was violated sped through his mind and made his chest constrict. Raphael pressed his face against Emilio’s to find comfort and he breathed deeply to fight his fears.

“A little,” Raphael confessed. “But I do not want to remain scared. It is fine if it is you…I know you will not hurt me.”

“Even though I have already hurt you plenty?”

Raphael shook his head vehemently, but Emilio still refused to look at him.

“I am a horrible person, Raphael.”

“No you are not!”

The outburst left Raphael and he became more certain of what he desired. He made their eyes meet.

“You are not horrible at all, Emilio. I love you.”

In the dim moonlight, he thought he saw tears well up in Emilio’s eyes. Then lips crashed upon his in the most desperate and loving manner. Raphael let Emilio taste his lips and claim his tongue, let the man know that it was not a crime to love him. A brave smile spread his lips as Emilio’s kisses trailed downwards; the happiness of finally getting through to the man he loved overpowered all his fears.

“I will be gentle,” Emilio swore as he kissed the area over his heart. “I will not hurt you.”

The fluttery kisses landed softly all over his bare chest, reigniting the passion that Raphael thought had cooled. Emilio lapped the underside of his nipple while fondling his behind.  The stimulation was hard to bear, especially since his body was still overly sensitive from the orgasm. He did not think it was possible, but he was getting aroused again.

Emilio coated his finger with Raphael’s ejaculation and pressed it against the entrance. It rubbed a few times, waiting for the tension to ease, before slipping inside.

At once, Raphael’s attention shifted away from his chest. He clamped his mouth shut and endured the intrusion, thankful that Emilio was true to his words and did not rush. The movement paused each time Raphael winced and it helped him to adjust more easily. His nipples were sucked on as the finger slid in and out, and Raphael tossed his head to the side, confused by the strange pleasure from the slippery sensations.

When a second finger was added, Raphael was surprised that it managed to go in faster than the first. There was no pain, just slight tenderness when he was stretched on the inside. He exhaled slowly and willed himself to relax, but it was getting increasingly difficult to stay in this kneeling position. His thighs were trembling and his arms were also getting tired from propping his torso upright.

Sensing his discomfort, Emilio pulled out and guided him to lie on his stomach. Raphael clutched the pillow and pressed his burning face into it. The pose was incredibly embarrassing, for his hips were up in the air and facing Emilio. It was also not easy to turn back and see what the man was doing to him. A sudden wet feeling made him yelp, and when it was repeated, he realised what was going on. Emilio had spread him wide open and was licking him.

“No, wait, it is dirty…ah!”

Raphael tried to protest, but lost his will when he felt another lick. Emilio’s tongue circled his entrance, sometimes dipping in and sometimes prodding with fingers instead. The shallow thrusts and licking alternated, but it was not satisfying enough. He pushed his hips backwards in frustration, wanting to feel more, to be penetrated deeper.

That was when Emilio’s fingers hit something and created a numbing spark. Raphael gasped, overwhelmed by the intense feeling and unable to recognise it as pleasure until the spot was hit once more. A loud cry left him and his eyes went wide, shocked by the incredible delight coursing through his whole body. Before he knew it, he was bucking his hips, feverishly seeking the elusive spot. He groaned in frustration when Emilio withdrew his fingers and instead chose to leave kisses on his back.

“You are hard again,” Emilio said and reached under to touch the tip of Raphael’s erection. “So wet.”

“Emilio,” Raphael whined, close to tears. “Stop teasing. Hurry…!”

Answering his request, Emilio rotated him so he lay on his back and then stripped off the last piece of clothing on him. The shirt fell on the floor, and soon, Emilio’s own shirt joined the pile. Raphael watched as the man removed his clothes, admiring his defined shoulders and toned arms. The last time he saw Emilio naked was when he was still a child and they bathed together. It astonished him even now to think their relationship had changed so much.

They were no longer just teacher and student. They were lovers.

He knew Emilio was thinking the same thing when their eyes met. The man was silently asking for permission for the last time. Raphael replied with a trusting nod.

His ankles were lifted, and very slowly, Emilio eased himself in.

Raphael closed his eyes and relaxed his body as best as he could, focusing only on his desire to accept Emilio. It was easier than he expected and after exhaling to adjust to the pressure, Raphael learnt that their bodies were finally connected. He opened his arms and Emilio bent over to embrace him. Their bare chests collided, their hearts beat together and they whispered to each other over and over.

‘I love you.’

A tentative squeeze made Emilio thrust lightly in response. They repeated the motion, taking their time to learn each other’s bodies, until the pleasure became too much to bear. Emilio pushed inside with more force, paused for the tremors in Raphael’s body to subside before withdrawing and pushing in again. Their movements grew larger and more frantic as Raphael lifted his hips to meet Emilio’s thrusts, yearning to feel more of the delicious friction.

He almost screamed when Emilio hit the special spot. Tears oozed from his eyes as he shook from the pleasure, and Emilio paused to lick them up.

“Is it here?” A thrust accompanied the question.

“Ah! No…There…” Raphael mumbled, not knowing what he was saying any more. His hands were equally confused; they pushed against Emilio’s arms, trying to stop the man even though he wanted more of the pleasure. A deep plunge made him lose his grip, and in that moment, Emilio grabbed his wrists, pinned them beside his head and increased the momentum of his thrusts.

Raphael was helpless and completely at Emilio’s mercy as each thrust brought him closer to the brink. Emilio kissed him while attacking his weak spot, building his desire without stopping. It did not take long before Raphael thought he was going to come again. He wriggled his wrists free so he could put them around Emilio.

“I-I am going to -!”

This sentence turned into a loud moan as orgasm hit him before he could finish speaking. He jerked as fluids spilled over his stomach and his muscles tensed. Emilio winced at the sudden contraction, and after a few more thrusts, he came as well, deep inside Raphael. They rode out the last waves of pleasure together and spent a few moments without moving, basking in the afterglow.

They were both panting when they settled together on the bed, side by side.

“Sorry if I was not gentle enough,” Emilio said and Raphael shook his head.

“It was amazing,” he said and gave a dreamy sigh.

They held each other close and chuckled, and then Raphael pulled away with a frown. The reaction worried Emilio, and he brushed Raphael’s cheek with the back of his fingers.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked.

“I should have done more for you. I should have touched you more, or, oh I know. I should have used my mouth to please you.”

It was a real concern for Raphael. This was the first time he came without doing anything, and twice! He felt a little guilty, so he frowned even more when he heard Emilio’s laugh.

“If you do that, I would have come too quickly,” the man said.

“Then it would be fair.”

The argument brought another laugh, but because it sounded so joyful, Raphael could not bring himself to stay upset. He rolled to his side to hug Emilio, and the other returned the gesture.

“You are mine,” Emilio murmured, pressing a kiss on Raphael’s forehead.

“Well, you are mine too. So be sure not to kiss anyone else.”

“Of course. I promise.”

They stayed in that position for a long time, mindlessly cuddling under the blanket. The day had been long and they were so exhausted their eyes could barely stay open. However just as Raphael was about to drift to sleep, he remembered something very important that he had to say. He shook Emilio awake and made him listen.

“I completed the sonata,” he said in a drowsy slur. “I will show you when we get home.”

“Is that so?” Emilio replied, sounding equally tired, but happy. “I cannot wait to hear it.”

Nothing more was said that night. Raphael closed his eyes, listening to Emilio steady breathing and learnt what it meant to have true peace. It was the ultimately fulfilment of the soul, an understanding that made him more complete as a human being, and surprisingly, he did not need much to find it.

He only needed to fall asleep with Emilio like this, holding hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it, folks! Hope you found this chapter hot hohoho!
> 
> I can't stress enough how thankful I am to share this story with you. Gabriel, Raphael and Emilio are all very precious to me, and writing their story had changed my life a little. So thank you for joining me on this journey~ Comments will be greatly appreciated! 
> 
> Please also feel free to check out my fb page TwistedMedley, which sometimes includes illustrations by my friend sobachan based on my fics. (my display pic is drawn by her) See you next time!


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